


Collection

by LadyofParchments



Category: Alien vs Predator (2004)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Torture, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofParchments/pseuds/LadyofParchments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are no longer yourself. You belong to him now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captive

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Collection  
> Author: MuseofScrolls  
> Chapter: One  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Sexual Situations, Non-consensual Sex/Implied Rape, Attempted Rape, Death  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Female Non-Human/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Predator or AVP franchise and earn no monetary funds for composing this work of fiction. However, all original characters found herein are my own and therefore should not be used in any other work of fiction without my express written permission.  
> Word Count: 3969
> 
> Special Note: I am slowly working on editing this work as there are places that I believe could use more detail and fleshing out. For those who have read "Collection" before, there are some changes that will explain some motives of certain characters that I feel were likely missing in the first draft. Please enjoy this version as you did the earlier version. Thank you.

# Chapter 1: Captive

[Location: Unatra]

The trees were thick with green and blue leaves, giving off a wonderful, clean scent. A carpet of grass covered the entire meadow and forest. Warm sunlight bathed the land in a healthy glow as small flying creatures flitted from tree to tree.

“It’s been so long since we were back home, Lyra,” a young female stated, stretching her thin arms into the air.

A tall, slender female turned to face the younger figure, smiling. “Yes, Cora, but I think the best time to return is when the trees are leaved. When all living things rejoice in life is the time to visit home.”

“Too bad Mother has to stay on the ship while we get to explore, huh, Sis?” Cora said, looking back in the direction they came. “She always loves smelling the new suckle-vines.”

“Well, maybe we can take some back to her if we can find them. Come on, let’s go.”

Moving down into the meadow, the two Natranians relished in the sun’s light shining on their white skin. A soft breeze wafted through their long, silver manes, and Lyra scented for suckle-vines. There was something else, something different, on the wind, and she frowned, wondering what it was. It was like nothing she had encountered before and definitely nothing that belonged on Unatra.

The older Natranian female shrugged her shoulders, continuing through the meadow with her younger sister just behind her.

xXx

(Fate smiles upon us.) A growl rumbled in the trees of the forest just beyond the field. Cloaked within the sturdy boughs of two trees, a pair of large Yautja perched, observing the two native females wandering in the meadows below. (Elder Bha’ruk will be pleased.)

(I’d say that we were lucky, Ji’ran, considering each time we’ve come to this planet, we never found one Natranian.) The smaller of the two grunted, glancing at his comrade for a moment before staring at the Natranians. (Should we take both?)

Ji’ran shook his head, his locks heavy with many rings, barely clicking, (No, the smaller one looks too young, Y’un. It should be the tall female.) He turned to face the other hunter. (Remember the tactic to use. With their strong legs, it would be pointless to pursue them on foot. That is why you will drive them towards me.)

Y’un nodded. He had only heard of others’ hunts involving the Natranians, the males almost as tall as a full-grown Yautja but slender and built for speed--if one broke into a run it became nearly impossible to capture. Here, now, they could expect nothing less from the females of the species.

(Get into position,) Ji’ran hissed, keeping his steady gaze on the two females.

Silently dropping to the ground, Y’un stalked along the forest floor, his mask trained on their quarry. He unsheathed a small blade from his belt, carrying it along his side, though he doubted its necessity. It was merely a precaution on the chance one or both chose to fight rather than run.

To Ji’ran, only the goddess knew why Elder Bha’ruk wanted one of the pale and slender creatures. Ever since the Elder saw one while taking down a Natranian male, he had become enamored and fascinated with the race. However, it was not for Ji’ran to question Bha’ruk. He merely served him and despite his reservations, he would bring him one because it was what he ordered.

xXx

“Your choosing ceremony will take place soon, right, Lyra?” Cora met her older sister’s violet gaze from where she knelt in the grass. “I wish mine was soon.”

Laughing, Lyra shook her head, saying, “Yours will be here soon enough, Cora. Let me have mine first.”

As she grinned, Cora said, “I’ll bet you already know which males are going to ask you to choose them, don’t you?”

“Not necessarily. With my training, it’s doubtful many males would want me as their mate,” Lyra sighed.

“Well, if you wouldn’t be so… so forceful, maybe there’d be more.”

“If they don’t favor all of my aspects, there is no point in mating with them.”

Sighing, the younger Natranian dropped her head. “Lyra, you’re so particular. I’d think you would want to have many possible mates.”

“The quality of potential mates is better than the quantity.” Smiling, Lyra gazed down at her younger sister. “Learn that lesson well, dear sister.”

“You’re impossible.” Cora groaned. “I don’t see why…”

“Shhh!” Holding up a hand, Lyra silenced Cora as she turned her head, her long, pointed ears catching a soft sound.

“What is it?” Cora whispered, standing up.

“Listen… do you hear that?”

Both Natranians strained to hear the sound Lyra had heard before, but Cora huffed, murmuring, “I can’t hear anything. This is what I’m talking about…”

“Cora!” Lyra hissed, frowning at her sister. Then, a distinct snapping sound came from their left, and both females slowly turned their heads in that direction.

Swallowing, Cora breathed, “That sound I heard. What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” Lyra whispered back, her eyes searching for anything that could have made that sound. “We should leave… now.”

A ripple in the air had the taller Natranian’s gaze transfixed. Her eyes widened with fear as she saw it pass by again. It was large, a huge bulky body that moved seamlessly in the space around them.

“Cora… run when I tell you to.”

“What? Why?” Cora asked, looking where her sister was staring.

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.”

“A-alright.”

Whatever the large thing was, Lyra knew it was heading straight for them at too deliberate of a pace for her comfort. The air had grown still, and it sent small prickles along her skin. Then, the thing rushed forward, and she barely had time to cry, “Run, Cora, run!”

Leg muscles tightened and relaxed as she bolted, her hard hooves pounding against the ground in a flat run. Tucking her arms up, Lyra felt her blood surging through her veins as she sprinted away from whatever was chasing her and Cora. She heard her sister’s feet beating a short way behind her, but behind both of them, another set of feet drummed.

Glancing to the right, Lyra saw the forest and dashed for the trees, but a high squeal made her wheel around. A gasp flew from her lips after seeing Cora on the ground, the thing nearly upon her. With a shrill cry, she rushed towards Cora and, gathering her legs, leapt directly over her sister and struck two fingers against their pursuer’s chest and then the throat, making it stop with a grunt.

“Damn!” she grit. Lyra landed, hissing and gripping the two fingers that had struck the hard chest. Whatever it was it must have been wearing chest armor of some kind. Running straight to Cora, she pulled her little sister to stand. “Come on! Hurry!”

As the two loped away from their pursuer, Cora panted, “What… what’ll we do?”

“Head to the ship! I’ll try to lead it away!” Lyra answered, swallowing hard and shoving her sister in the direction of their ship. “Go, Cora! Tell Mother to get the ship ready to take off!”

“But…”

“Now!” Lyra didn’t give her a chance to argue, moving away and heading towards the cover of the trees.

Watching her older sister briefly, Cora dashed in the opposite way, praying that Lyra’s speed was enough to get her to the ship soon. _Please be alright, Sis,_ she thought, biting her lower lip and blinking rapidly. _Please get back to the ship, Lyra, please, please._

xXx

Watching from his perch above, Ji’ran nodded at Y’un’s successful pursuit of the two females even at a full run. His eyes widened when the tall female rounded and attacked Y’un’s cloaked form. _She knew where to strike,_ he thought, raising a brow. _Impressive._

Now, she was running straight for him, and his legs tensed before leaping from the tree and right next to her. With a shriek, she tried to maneuver around him, but Ji’ran hooked his arm around her shoulders, allowing his momentum to carry both of them to the ground. She tried to strike him with her fists, still shrieking in her high-pitched language and only making Ji’ran chuckle at her attempts. He found her useless writhing and wailing amusing until something hard cracked against his leg.

(C’jit!) Ji’ran roared as pain surged through his calf muscle. He had forgotten about their feet--more like hardened bone than flesh. He cursed himself as he glowered at the female, still thrashing beneath his grasp. _I’ll take care of this now._

Moving his bulky body over her slender form and making sure one of his legs held both of hers, Ji’ran reached into a pack on his belt. He pulled out a syringe and brought it close to her neck, but when she saw the needle, her head whipped about uncontrollably.

(Hold still!) he growled, placing his free hand against her forehead. Her shrill cries only became louder, but Ji’ran finally stuck the needle into the side of her neck, injecting a light blue solution. Within moments, her voice died down, and she struggled to keep her eyes from closing. Then, she stopped moving, eyelids slipping shut as her head slumped to the side.

(That’s it, sleep,) Ji’ran rumbled softly, staring at the female beneath him. Up close he could plainly see she was shorter than him but taller than most young bloods, and her skin was so pale. But it was her scent that made him cock his head to the side.

Leaning down over her hair, Ji’ran inhaled deeply and groaned, a shudder coursing down his spine. _By the goddess, it’s like… warm light and mating. Is this why Bha’ruk wants one so badly?_

(Good, you caught her.) Y’un’s voice made Ji’ran quickly roll off her body, rising to his feet. Grunting, his leg still stung from her earlier blow, but it would heal quickly.

(Not without a struggle,) he growled, his mask trained on her. (But that’s why we brought the tranquilizer.)

Y’un nodded agreement. His neck still felt a little numb from where she had struck him. (Let’s get her to the cruiser.)

(Right.) Bending down, Ji’ran lifted her easily, slinging her body over his shoulder. His rough hand slid down her bare leg, noticing the soft warmth of the skin there. Ji’ran suddenly became very curious about what was concealed under her dress. But they had to get her to the main ship hovering above the planet’s atmosphere. _There will be time to study her more closely on the ship,_ he told himself.

The small cruising ship was cloaked on the far side of the field where the Natranian females had originally been. It had been by luck that they came from the opposite direction of the ship. Carrying her inside, Ji’ran laid the Natranian’s limp body in one of the small bed chambers, joining Y’un at the control panel.

(She won’t wake up on the way, will she?) Y’un asked, starting the cruiser’s engines and glancing up at Ji’ran.

(I gave her enough to keep her asleep for several hours.) Ji’ran cocked his head in the direction of the bedroom. (That should be enough time for us to get to the main ship, Ta’al can examine her, and then she can be prepared for Elder Bha’ruk.)

xXx

[Location: Yautja Vessel Ty’rath-di]

After a short time, the cruiser docked inside the hangar of the enormous main vessel, and Ji’ran moved back into the chamber where the Natranian lay unconscious. Retrieving a small mask and breathing container filled with her air, he placed the mask over her nose and mouth before turning on the container. It would not do to have her suffocate because of their air.

Sliding his arms under her, Ji’ran lifted the female up and strode outside the lowered hatch of the cruiser. Several Yautja waited for him and Y’un, but only one approached. He had a dark blue coloring with thin silver stripes along his limbs and surrounding his torso.

(So, you finally captured a Natranian, eh, Ji’ran?) The approaching Yautja grunted. (I’m sure Elder Bha’ruk will be too pleased with your find to want to spar with you for your earlier incompetence.)

(Ta’al, shut it!) Ji’ran snarled, stalking around Ta’al and towards the elevator. (She needs to be examined now and your banter doesn’t help that matter.)

Sighing, Ta’al rolled his eyes and joined Ji’ran in front of the elevator doors. He looked down at her limp form and clicked a mandible, wondering how they did manage to find a Natranian. (Such a pale creature… but she must be in good health.)

(Of course she is! Why would I bring an unhealthy one?) Ji’ran hissed before glancing at Ta’al. (Why did you say that?)

(Either she caused that discoloration on your leg or your skills are fleeing you. Or perhaps both.)

Dropping her legs, Ji’ran’s free hand locked around the top of Ta’al’s chest plate, yanking him forward with a warning growl. (Do—not—test me, Healer.)

(I would not think of it, Ji’ran.) Ta’al kept his calm gaze locked with the eye sockets of Ji’ran’s mask, restraining both his tongue and fist from lashing out at the warrior. _It’s one thing to track, hunt, and fight with honorable male prey. But capturing innocent females, taking them from their homes and families, what low will we be forced to reach before the Elder has enough?_

The doors slid open, and both Yautja stepped into the lift, Ta’al pressing in the code for the medical level. Reaching the requested area, the doors opened once more, and Ta’al stepped out and walked ahead of Ji’ran. At the end of the corridor, he opened the examining room and immediately went to wash his hands while Ji’ran laid the Natranian on the metal table.

Leaning over her, Ji’ran ran his claws through the long silver mane and paused when he reached her covered breasts. He glanced back at Ta’al still busy with gathering all his tools, and then his large palm cupped one breast, squeezing lightly.

(Ji’ran, that is all. Leave so I can examine her,) Ta’al ordered. He didn’t even have to turn around to know Ji’ran had found some amusement with the female. A small release of musk now mingled with the air around him. _Pauk’de fool,_ he thought, facing the table and watching Ji’ran slowly leave the room.

Turning his attention to the female lying on the table, Ta’al moved towards her and ran a scanner down the length of her body from her head to her oddly shaped feet. He made several notes in his datapad as he went, finding she was completely untouched and had aged almost thirty years, still young but ready for mating. His hand held up the hair covering her neck and he saw the tiny circle of discoloration from where she was injected. Aside from that, there was not a mark on her.

Next, Ta’al picked up a small syringe and injected a cloudy substance into her arm, noting that she would be cleared of any trace of outside disease. Going back to one cabinet, he retrieved a case and opened it. 

(That’s a little too large for your nasal passages,) he commented after picking up one of the breathing devices. Lifting the mask, his thumb gently pushed back her flattened nose, looking inside her small nostrils before replacing the mask.

Choosing one not even half the size of the pad of his thumb, Ta’al removed her mask and pushed the device inside her nostrils. He waited for several tense moments, hoping the device would work with her olfactory system instead of being rejected by it. With one of the other females brought here, her system rejected it entirely, and he had been forced to give her a quick death rather than have her slowly suffocate on their air. It was one thing Ta’al did not want to do again for any female let alone one captured and brought here.

When her breathing remained steady and calm, he nodded, satisfied with his work. Ta’al’s eyes drifted down to her feet, and he stepped towards that end of the table. Tapping a claw against one, he noted how hard they were and their rounded shape. It made him think her kind might have evolved from grazers but he wasn’t certain as one can’t always guess these things.

Moving back to her head, Ta’al sighed as his eyes fell on her pale neck; he disliked what he had to do next. His hand reached out to the counter next to him and retrieved a thick, hinged, metal ring. Sliding a hand under her head, he lifted it and snapped the ring around her neck. Immediately, it grew warm to his touch, and he was glad that she was unconscious and unable to feel the burn and pricks of the translator embedding into her skin.

A small sound came from her lips, and Ta’al looked at her face and watched her eyes straining to open. Standing, he stepped back from the table, not wanting to startle her too much when she did fully wake.

xXx

In the blackness of her mind, Lyra heard small noises of someone or something moving about. There weren’t many sounds within close range of her, but she knew something was nearby. _If I can… open my eyes…_ she thought, struggling to remember what had happened. _Cora and I were… we were running from… something and then…_

Gasping, her eyes flew open as her body sat up only to be greeted by hammering in her skull. Lyra gripped her head and groaned, closing her eyes to try and staunch the pain. “Wh-what happened?”

“You were brought onto a Yautja ship.” A male voice answered, and she blinked her eyes quickly to adjust her sight. Looking in the direction of the voice, she backed away after seeing the large, blue being leaning against the wall. Four long spikes converged over where his mouth was, and silver eyes met her stare.

 _Yautja… Yautja…_ Lyra wracked her mind trying to recall what her mother had said about the various space-faring species the other Natranian had encountered. What Lyra suddenly remembered about this particular race worried her. They were a warrior race and their whole culture centered around the honor of The Hunt. No one believed they attacked females, but her mother knew firsthand they hunted Natranian males. Her father, Lyra’s grandfather, died by a Yautja hand.

“To stop the throbbing from the sedative, slowly lean forward and bend your head down,” he told her, still staying away from her. “You woke too soon and it hasn’t worked its way through your system.”

“Why…” She stopped and winced at the pain, hesitantly doing as he advised. “Why am I here? And how can I understand you?”

A huge sigh made Lyra look up at him, and he lowered his head before meeting her gaze. “You and I can communicate because of the translator around your neck.” He tapped two clawed fingers against his own neck while looking at her.

Her hand went to her neck, and Lyra felt the metal collar practically set inside her skin. Frowning, she tried to force her fingers between it and her neck, but a large hand gripped her wrist as she heard him growl, “Don’t. It can’t be removed like that, and it’s better for it to remain as it is.”

“I am no beast meant to be kept as a pet,” she huffed, flaring her nostrils as she pulled away from him.

“No, but you are being kept as a pleasure.” He inhaled slowly and backed away from her.

Eyes wide, Lyra asked, “What? What did you say?”

“You will understand soon enough. I am neither the one who captured you nor the one who ordered your capture. But I am the healer on this ship, and I have to ensure the internal and external safety of all the females brought here.” Clicking, he clenched a fist and lowered his voice. “I will do what I can to help you, but it won’t be as much as I’d prefer.”

Staring at him, Lyra brought her legs under her and slowly got off the table. She kept her hands against the flat metal top, feeling dizzy and unsure on her feet. “If you really want to help me, get me off this ship and back to Unatra.”

“I can’t do that,” he said, shaking his head and scattering his black, tube-like hair along his back.

Gritting her flat teeth, Lyra bent her head down, saying, “Then, you can’t help me.”

A buzzing noise coming from the wall to her left made Lyra jump, and she bent over the table once more trying to make her head stop spinning. She watched the blue Yautja move to a door and he asked, “Yes, what is it?”

“I’ve been sent to bring the female before Bha’ruk,” another male voice growled.

“Ji’ran, I will escort her to Bha’ruk,” the Yautja healer hissed, turning away from the door. He looked at Lyra as she was finally able to stand up straight without her vision swirling. “I am Ta’al, and as I said before I’ll do what I can to help you. Having a healer on your side might prove more useful than you think right now.”

Inhaling, Lyra’s eyes went to the floor as his words sank in, and she nodded. “I’m Lyra, and I… thank you for your assistance.”

“Lyra… you must be prepared for what will happen.” Ta’al clicked a mandible as his brow furrowed deeply.

“What does he… this ‘Bha’ruk’… want with me?” she asked, her eyes squinting in confusion. “You said I was a ‘pleasure’…”

Hissing softly, Ta’al stared at Lyra’s dark eyes as she expected him to answer. He wondered just how Bha’ruk would react after seeing the Natranian female, the one female he searched for obsessively. “You… are now his, Lyra. His to do with as he pleases whether he wants to mate you or just have you in his presence.”

“No…” Lyra’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the door. “I will not do that, not with anyone let alone a strange male from a species not my own.”

Almost anticipating her reaction, Ta’al reached the door just as Lyra bolted for it, his arms gripping around her shoulders as she struggled. “Lyra, listen to me! This ship and those on it all belong to him whether through service or… coercion. We’ve already left your planet’s outer atmosphere, so you couldn’t escape.”

“After telling me all this, you expect me to just allow myself to be… be used?” Clenching her teeth, she felt her blood pumping swiftly in her veins as she strained against his hold. “I thought you wanted to help me! You call this _help_?!”

“It is if I’m preventing you from placing yourself in even greater danger!” he snarled, pressing her against the wall. “There are males on the ship who would take you without thoughts on punishment. They won’t care how much you struggle or shriek or fight. They will fuck you until they or you are finished.”

Breath caught in her throat as her eyes grew wide until Ta’al could see the whites around them. The obscenity hammered home the harsh reality. Lyra stopped struggling as air shuddered from her mouth, and she blinked, trying to focus.

“I tell you this as a warning for what could happen if you try to escape,” he said, hesitantly releasing her. When she didn’t move, Ta’al lowered his head to where he could look in her eyes. “Lyra, to save yourself from pain, just… just cooperate with Bha’ruk. You belong to him now.”


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are no longer yourself. You belong to him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Collection  
> Author: MuseofScrolls  
> Chapter: Two  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Sexual Situations, Non-consensual Sex/Implied Rape, Attempted Rape, Death  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Female Non-Human/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Predator or AVP franchise and earn no monetary funds for composing this work of fiction. However, all original characters found herein are my own and therefore should not be used in any other work of fiction without my express written permission.  
> Word Count: 4579

# Chapter 2: Meeting

Reaching Bha’ruk’s master suite, Ta’al glanced at Lyra as she stood silently beside him. She had not said anything after his last words to her in the examining room, and he wondered about her mental state. But when she turned to meet his gaze, Ta’al raised a heavy brow at seeing fire within the violet depths. He knew that she would not quietly submit and join Bha’ruk’s “collection,” but he only prayed it wouldn’t destroy her.

Ta’al pressed the comm next to the door, and a low voice growled, “Enter.”

The door slid open as Ta’al led Lyra inside the large chamber, and the Yautja healer immediately faced the wall to the left of the door, lowering his head. “Elder, I have brought the newest female… a Natranian.”

Seated in a large chair was Bha’ruk, a rather immense Yautja of thick build and stature. He stood and slowly moved towards the two figures, his eyes lingering on the lithe, white being. “I can see that myself, Ta’al. Now, leave us.”

A shudder coursed through Lyra’s shoulders and down her spine when she heard Bha’ruk’s words. Her heart already drummed against her chest just from looking at the huge being standing only a few feet in front of her. His scrutinizing orange eyes almost made her cringe, but she forced her body to remain still. A brief squeeze on her arm made her blink, and her eyes moved to watch Ta’al leave the room.

Purring low in his chest, Bha’ruk managed to contain most of his excitement about having a Natranian in his presence. He strode around her, his eyes taking in all of her; the curve of her hips, the strength present in her long legs, and the roundness of her hard feet. His gaze moved back up to rest on the length of silver hair draping well past her waist. Closing his eyes, he longed to tangle his talons within that soft mane, but he knew now was not the time. He knew breaking her would be very easy, but his mating with her would be far more pleasant if she would obey his whims and accept her role as his mate. He’d waited this long to find a Natranian, he could wait a little longer if only to allow her to submit willingly.

As he moved in front of her, Bha’ruk closed the distance between them, watching as she inhaled sharply. Her eyes moved up to his, and he stopped at seeing their color. Such a deep shade of violet he’d not seen before in other species. The contrast was so perfect compared to her white skin, and he had to stop himself from grabbing her and pulling her closer.

Lyra swallowed slowly as she forced her tense body to remain still rather than bolt as she wanted to do. His inspection of her did nothing to settle the thoughts circling her mind. It felt as though he was hunting her, slowly moving in to kill her. When she met his stare, she saw such rawness in his eyes, and all of it directed towards her. He took one more step, bringing him to within arm's reach of her, and Lyra stepped back, calling, “Don’t!”

Blinking his eyes, Bha’ruk raised a brow and noticed her heart beating rather loud and fast. She feared him and why shouldn’t she or anyone else for that matter? He was leader of this clan of hunters and that was the way he ruled, through fear.

In a soft almost soothing tone, Bha’ruk stated, “I will not touch you… now. But let me make one thing clear to you. I am the master of this ship, and there is no one who will give me orders. Do you understand?”

Lyra’s eyes widened but quickly narrowed at his words. She could not believe the arrogant confidence he exuded that practically claimed he could do whatever he wished. No true leader would behave in such a manner, at least no Natranian leader.

“Do—you—understand?” he repeated, taking a step closer for each word as his eyes narrowed and stared into hers.

With his hulking form leaning over her, Lyra wanted to fight, to run, or just do something to get away. She could easily strike his neck from this position just as she had to one of her attackers on Unatra. But Ta’al’s words forced her to reconsider any of her previous thoughts. _To save yourself from pain just cooperate with Bha’ruk._ Turning her head away from him, she muttered, “I… understand.”

“Good,” Bha’ruk purred low in his chest. He inhaled deeply, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her scent hit his senses. Her scent was reminiscent of the only other Natranian female he’d encountered, but this one was far sweeter because she stood before him and she was his. “What is your name?”

She remained silent, refusing to even look up. She would not honor him by giving such privileged information as her name.

Bha’ruk growled dangerously low in his chest as his eyes narrowed into a glare. She dared to show such insolence by not answering him? Raising a fist to strike her, he roared and watched as she looked up with wide eyes, her heartbeat racing even faster. Instantly, Bha’ruk bent down and punched the floor, leaving behind a crater larger than the Natranian’s hoof. Standing up, he grunted and leered at her. There was no need to learn her name immediately as long as she knew his name. And he would ensure she knew the name of her master and mate. “Since you won’t tell me your name, I’ll give you one… Natra. Such a truthful name, isn’t it?”

Flaring her nostrils in agitation to hide her remaining fear, Lyra swallowed a retort but told herself she could live with a fake name if it meant Bha’ruk didn’t know her real one. If nothing else, it would help her think of Unatra and her family. She was sure Cora had made it to the ship, but she wondered what her mother would do when she didn’t return with her sister. What could be done? For all she and her family knew, this ship was light years away from Unatra by now.

Bha’ruk slowly strode away from Lyra and opened the entrance to his rooms where Ji’ran and Y’un were standing on either side. “You two, take Natra to her new quarters. She’ll meet my other females after she’s settled down.”

“Yes, Elder,” Ji’ran stated, moving into the room.

Upon smelling the familiar scent of the Yautja that had captured her, Lyra shrieked and moved to the far side of the room, keeping her back to the wall. Her eyes narrowed as her hands balled into fists, and she moved into a more defensive stance. She refused to let him come anywhere near her.

Watching her, Bha’ruk glared at Ji’ran, demanding, “What happened?”

“I… Elder, I was the one who captured her on Unatra,” Ji’ran admitted, cursing that he couldn’t get close to the female as he had before. He had hoped to touch that soft skin and be surrounded by her scent.

“Apparently, that has had a less than desirable effect on her.” Bha’ruk growled as he stalked towards Ji’ran. He stood before the younger Yautja, looking down at his unmasked face. His arm shot out and grabbed Ji’ran’s neck, jerking him closer and snarling, “You did nothing unsavory towards her while on Unatra, did you?”

“N-no, Elder, I s-swear!” Ji’ran’s tongue stumbled as Bha’ruk’s claws pierced his neck. “I-I only caught and sedated her to bring her here without trouble.”

Narrowing his gaze, Bha’ruk couldn’t be sure if Ji’ran, his heart understandably racing with fear, was telling the truth or not. It was no matter in his mind since he could always interrogate Ji’ran’s partner. Shoving the warrior away, Bha’ruk ordered, “Go and fetch Ta’al. She seems more at ease with him, and I would prefer no bloodshed by her hand or, more importantly, yours.”

Ji’ran nodded. His eyes darted to where Lyra still stood in a defensive stance, but he turned away and strode into the corridor with Y’un.

Bha’ruk turned towards her, softly growling, “Calm your heart, Natra. They won’t upset you.”

_What’s to stop you from upsetting me?_ she thought, huffing before noticing a window behind her. Looking out into the blackness of space, Lyra placed a hand against the glass.

The Yautja elder watched his newest female with hooded eyes, wanting to further examine her in a more intimate manner. Behind him, the hissing doors made Bha’ruk shift his attention to Ta’al and Ji’ran standing just inside the room. Growling at Ji’ran, he angled his head sharply, a silent order for the warrior to go outside. Then, he looked at the healer, saying, “Escort Natra to her room, Ta’al.”

“Natra’s… room, Elder?” the healer asked, glancing at Lyra where she stood still facing away from them.

Bha’ruk nodded. “The room next to Sitana’s will be Natra’s quarters. Take her and stay there until I come with her guard.”

“Yes, Elder.” Ta’al moved to Lyra’s side and touched her shoulder. “Come, Natra.”

Upon feeling his touch, Lyra turned to face the healer, giving him a brief look of relief before moving towards the door with Ta’al right behind her. They had to walk past Bha’ruk, and he growled softly in his chest as Lyra strode by him. She tried to ignore the cold shudder that raked down her spine, but her body stiffened once she and Ta’al were outside the room. Her eyes narrowed at the one who captured her, remembering that Bha’ruk had called him ‘Ji’ran.’ His eyes were a pale yellow, and she noticed a scar running along the left side of his face. Lyra knew she would definitely be able to identify him from a greater distance now to better avoid him.

Ta’al moved in between Lyra and Ji’ran, snarling at the warrior before urging the female further down the corridor. He didn’t want Ji’ran agitating Lyra more than she already was after meeting Bha’ruk. The healer was amazed that she was still untouched, but that meant nothing as no doubt Bha’ruk would defile her soon enough.

“Ta’al.” Lyra looked at him from the side.

“Yes… Natra?” he asked, still hesitant with her new name.

She glanced back and huffed at the memory of Ji’ran before facing forward again. “Please, do not tell me that… kidnapper is allowed in this area.”

“‘Kidnapper?’ Ah, Ji’ran.” Ta’al barely turned his head to look behind even though they had already turned a corner. Ji’ran wouldn’t be in sight from this part of the corridor. “He’s only allowed here when Bha’ruk summons him. I have more freedom to enter this level because of my position.”

Lyra nodded and sighed, “What ‘guard’ does he mean?”

“Each of Bha’ruk’s females has their own personal guard who escorts them everywhere,” he explained. “None of the females are allowed to enter any level beyond this one and the medical area. The guards are to ensure that they are kept safe from any Yautja who may have an audience with Bha’ruk on this level. You’ll be told more of the rules by one or more of the other females. Or perhaps by Bha’ruk himself.”

“Rules? Is there a reason for order to be kept on this ship?” she asked, pursing her lips. “Just how many other females does he have, Ta’al?”

“Five females, not including you.”

She stopped in the corridor and turned to face Ta’al, her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. Why would I be brought here if there are that many females on this ship already?”

Ta’al sighed and stopped next to Lyra. His eyes met her gaze, and he said, “For some Yautja, one or even two females aren’t enough. As to why you were brought here, you have met him. Did you not notice how he behaved around you?”

“Yes, and it disturbed and unnerved me to no end. The way he stalked around me as though I were his next meal or perhaps inspecting a… a beast of burden.” She said the last part through clenched teeth.

Closing his eyes, the healer shook his head and motioned down the hallway. “That is Bha’ruk. Let’s get to your quarters.”

As the two continued walking, Lyra noticed several doors on either side each with a Yautja standing nearby. She assumed these were guards of the other females. The guards merely nodded to Ta’al and glanced at Lyra as they passed. Ignoring the nervous impulse to look behind her, Lyra wondered what made Bha’ruk choose them as guards for his females.

Almost as though hearing her thoughts, Ta’al said, “Each of these Yautja protects one of Bha’ruk’s females. They must swear complete loyalty to him and remain celibate while on this ship. If they attempt any mating, Bha’ruk cuts off their… pride.”

Lyra blinked in shock at this statement, stopping once more.

“Cease stopping, Natra, we’re almost to your room.” Ta’al clicked a mandible as he placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to move her along.

“I just… I don’t know what to think about any of this,” she murmured, slowly continuing down the hallway.

Shaking his head, Ta’al walked just behind her, knowing there was nothing to really think about. Bha’ruk was what he was. Nothing could change that, and nothing could spare the females that were captured and brought onto this ship. Ta’al only did what he could to give them some relief from both pain and mating, but it wasn’t enough to him. He couldn’t give them their freedom.

The next door they approached hissed open, and a female slightly shorter than Lyra walked into the corridor. She had golden scaled skin, strong-looking arms and a long prehensile tail. No hair graced her head, and instead smaller scaled appendages similar to her tail draped just past her shoulders. Her eyes were completely green with a thin vertical slit bisecting them, and they looked at Lyra and Ta’al.

“A Natranian,” she said in a series of hisses even though Lyra understood her words. “The Elder mussst be quite pleasssed.”

“Sitana,” Ta’al grunted as he nodded to the guard next to the Cerpantian female.

Lyra merely gazed in surprise at the other female of a species that she had never encountered on any of her travels. Then, she lowered her eyes, not wanting to show disrespect by staring at this ‘Sitana’. She looked up when she heard both the female and her guard approach, and Sitana stopped next to her.

“I feel sssuch sssorrow for you, hisss obsssession.”

Meeting the slit eyes of the strange female, Lyra watched as Sitana moved in the direction they just came from. Then, she turned and looked at Ta’al where he stood cracking his knuckles. “Ta’al? What did she mean, ‘his obsession?’”

“I… I can’t say, Natra,” he said, stepping forward to the door after Sitana’s. Pressing his palm against the comm, Ta’al moved back and waited until Lyra decided to enter.

Looking around the room, Lyra noticed there was a rather large circular bed along the far side of the room. There was a door on both the left and right side of the chamber, and she approached one.

“That’s the bathing room,” Ta’al said, closing and securing the door behind him. “The other door leads to a small clothes storage area. I sent your measurements to Vanika, one of the females who is also a seamstress. She should have some clothes for you within the next few days.”

Lyra nodded. She approached the bed and noticed it was covered with a sheet while a white skin was supposed to serve as a blanket. Slowly swallowing, she turned and asked, “Can this be removed from here?”

“The blanket?” He cocked his head to the side, confused.

“If that’s what you call it,” she said, shuddering and stepping away from the bed. “I call it a death banner.”

Ta’al sighed, saying, “I’ll try to find more sheets for you to use instead. Or perhaps Vanika could weave a blanket for you.”

After he removed the blanket, the comm from outside the room buzzed and Lyra gasped at the sudden, piercing noise. She huffed, “Is it always that loud?”

“It is set at a normal level, Natra. Your hearing is probably more sensitive to the tone than ours,” Ta’al answered, moving towards the entry door. Pressing the comm, he asked, “Who is it?”

“Your leader, now open this door,” Bha’ruk’s voice growled through the comm.

Tilting his head to the side, Ta’al clicked a mandible before asking, “Elder, what is the name you gave this female?”

“‘Natra’ is her name, Healer, now let me inside before I make my own entrance,” the Elder rumbled low, the sound of his claws clicking against the metal plating.

Ta’al pressed in the release code and immediately bowed his head as Bha’ruk strode inside the room with another warrior behind him. When the door slid closed, the other warrior secured it before straightening his posture into that of a sentry.

Bha’ruk glanced at Lyra where she stood on the side of the room farthest from them but returned his attention to Ta’al, his head still lowered. He clicked a mandible before saying, “Well done with the inquiry, Healer.”

“I realize that some of us are better at mimicry than others and wanted to be certain it was you, Elder,” Ta’al stated, raising his head. His eyes locked with the bright orange stare of his leader, wishing he had more fighting skills. Hissing to himself, he knew it would be useless against Bha’ruk’s abilities and strength.

The Elder grunted. “I would have chosen a different question. It could have been Ji’ran or even his partner instead of me, and both know her name.”

“Yes, Elder, but I had little time to create an inquiry.”

Bha’ruk merely grunted again and turned to face Lyra as she stood close to the bed. A tempting scene played in his mind of throwing her to the bed and taking her immediately. But the Elder didn’t believe this room was ideal for what he wanted and shoved that thought aside. Still, he would enjoy having her beneath him… later.

Lyra kept her eyes on Bha’ruk the entire time as her leg muscles tensed as though preparing to bolt. Stilling her body from one of its usual reactions, she made sure her back was to the wall. This way, she wouldn’t be caught off guard if Bha’ruk did try something. The thought just made her insides churn.

“O’ni shall be your personal guard, Natra,” Bha’ruk stated, looking towards the door where the warrior stood.

Her gaze shifted just enough to keep both Bha’ruk and this ‘O’ni’ in sight together. O’ni wasn’t as tall or as bulky as Bha’ruk, but from what Lyra could tell, his slender body was made for speed. His eyes were a pale green, and he bowed his head to her, keeping his spear ready at his side.

Approaching the guard of his newest female, Bha’ruk narrowed his eyes as O’ni snapped to attention, meeting his stare. “You know your task. Should you fail in any part of it, you know the cost. Do not disappoint me.”

“I will not fail you, Elder,” O’ni growled, tightening his hold on the spear.

Bha’ruk nodded his head slightly then looked at Ta’al. “Your task is finished, Healer. Return to your duties.”

The blue Yautja bowed to both Bha’ruk and Lyra before releasing the door and walking into the corridor. Ta’al knew there was nothing he could do for Lyra currently, but he could bide his time. And knowing Bha’ruk, he knew she would likely need his assistance within the next few days.

“The others are gathering in the main lounge,” Bha’ruk stated to O’ni even though his eyes remained on Lyra. “Take her to join them, O’ni.”

O’ni rapped his fist against his chest armor and turned to face Lyra. He made a motion with his spear, indicating that he would follow her outside.

“‘Others’…” Lyra murmured as she thought of the five females Bha’ruk already had. Sitana’s odd words of pity came to her mind, and Lyra wondered what the other four were like.

“Natra.” O’ni’s quiet rumble pulled her out of her thoughts, and Lyra saw that Bha’ruk had already left the room. This offered her some relief, but her wary gaze turned to O’ni as he stood waiting for her by the open door. “Let’s go.”

With a sigh, Lyra slowly walked towards the door and outside into the corridor with O’ni coming behind her. He secured the room and started down the hall; she hesitated for only a moment before following him. They were moving towards Bha’ruk’s room, and Lyra tensed until O’ni stopped at a large door on the right.

Placing his hand on the comm, O’ni stepped back as the door hissed open, and Lyra moved back with him. There was a quiet murmur of others speaking coming from the entrance, and Lyra glanced at her guard as he motioned her inside. She took a few steps inside and the small amount of conversing ceased. The sudden silence made her hesitate, but she steeled her nerves and looked around the room.

It was a much larger space than any of the rooms she’d been inside already, and pillows seemed to cover most of the floor. Seated on one particularly large pile was Sitana along with another female with four arms. Approaching them, Lyra blinked as she saw dark, fine hair covering all of this female’s visible skin, and the female blinked four crimson eyes at her. Long, red hair that looked like spun webbing fell past the female's bare shoulders. Then, she gave a small smile, saying, “The newest one of us. Sitana has told us of your arrival on the ship, and Ta’al gave me your measurements for clothing earlier.”

Lyra shook her head after hearing a small series of buzzing noises that must have been this female’s native tongue. The sound was strange to her ears, but it wasn’t unbearable. “Um… I…”

“Please, forgive my manners,” the female said as she shifted her position on the pillows. “I’m Vanika, an Ahrakin, and what is your name?”

“L… Natra.” She had caught herself almost giving her real name. It wasn’t that Lyra didn’t trust these females, but she wasn’t sure about telling them in case they might tell Bha’ruk.

“Clearly a name that Bha’ruk hasss given her inssstead, Vanika,” Sitana hissed with a sigh as she met the Natranian’s gaze. “You do not trussst him, yesss?”

“Well…” Lyra stopped and looked down at her hoofed feet, not really sure how to answer that.

“Good,” the Cerpantian female said, nodding her head. “It isss a wissse thing.”

“Sitana, please do not upset the girl,” Vanika said, looking up. “Sitana is definitely a female of reason and blunt words. You’ll get used to her and the rest of us along with life on the ship.”

Shaking her head, Lyra asked, “How can you say that? I don’t want to get used to life here. I want to be back with my family.”

“We all do.” Sitana bowed her head and clutched a pillow in her hands. “But you mussst not think about that… about home, family. It hurtsss even more…”

Lyra blinked at both females and knelt down on the lowest part of the pillow pile. “How long have you been here?”

“Two yearsss. Vanika hasss been here eight yearsss, the longessst of usss all.” Nodding towards the far wall, Sitana pointed out another female. This one looked rather large even with her brown-furred body curled up as she was. Lyra recognized her as a Vulfrani when she saw the long tail and pointed ears. “Rani hasss been here only three monthsss, the leassst of usss without counting you.”

Rani’s ears flicked in their direction, and when she turned her slightly elongated head towards them Lyra gasped. One of the main features of the Vulfrani was their long, thick fangs that could grow to a length of six to eight inches. The left fang had been broken off completely, leaving behind a small, jagged piece in her muzzle. Lyra was shocked that such thick bone could break like that.

“What…?” Lyra couldn’t finish her question.

“Bha’ruk,” Sitana stated softly as Rani gave a small whimper before turning away from them.

Facing the Cerpantian, Lyra’s eyes were wide enough to show the whites all around, whispering, “How could he…?”

“None of us know how it happened. One night, Bha’ruk sent for her and the next day, we heard she was in the medical facility,” Vanika explained in a hushed tone, her eyes becoming shiny with moisture. “When we saw her later that same day, she looked as she does now.”

“Now, she doesss not ssspeak,” Sitana murmured as her eyes moved around the room. “The other two are like that, keeping to themssselvesss.”

Following Sitana’s gaze, Lyra saw another female hunched over and leaning against the wall. Her small body was covered with silvery-blue scales, and there were dark, sail-like fins growing along her forearms and calves. She noticed another fin-like appendage sprouting from the female’s forehead and moving backwards. Lyra guessed she was an aquatic species that had the ability to breathe air on land as well as water.

“Nemona is her name,” Vanika spoke up, and Lyra glanced up at her. “She’s a Nimonae, and she does speak… just not very often.”

“The female wearing the black cloak isss Kudra, an Avarian.” Sitana stared at the female sitting a few feet from where Nemona was bent over. “She hasss not ssspoken sssince she wasss captured.”

With the cloak covering practically every part of Kudra, Lyra could only guess what she looked like. Lyra flung some of her silver hair over her shoulder and huffed through her nostrils. “He’s a monster. How can he be allowed to do this?”

“We have no answer for that, Natra,” Vanika answered, lowering her eyes. “All we can do is bear with it.”

“I won’t,” Lyra declared, clenching her fist but looking up when she felt someone grip her. Two of Vanika’s hands firmly grasped her fist as the female’s four eyes stared into hers.

“Do not oppose him. Nothing good will come of it, and Bha’ruk will do something… horrible to you, too.”

Meeting Vanika’s firm gaze, Lyra asked, “What did he do to you?”

With a sigh, the female released Lyra’s hand, whispering, “He… broke two of my arms during my first weeks here. All because I did not come when he ordered me to.”

“She isss right, Natra,” Sitana softly agreed. “Do not oppossse hisss will. You are hisss jussst asss we are.”

“If Bha’ruk sends for you, go as quickly as possible,” Vanika instructed. “Believe me, he will send for you soon, Natra. You are the one female he has searched for incessantly.”

“Wh… what?” Lyra’s eyes grew wide. “Why me?”

“He ssspoke often of Unatra, of obtaining a Natranian female.” Sitana’s eyes moved towards the door. “When he doesss order you to come do what he wantsss. I will admit I fought againssst him for asss long asss I could, but he isss too ssstrong. Thisss isss hisss ship, and everyone on it isss hisss.”

Ta’al’s words echoed in her mind, and Lyra shook her head and looked up to see O’ni standing over the three of them. Her heart hammered against her chest as she stared at the guard.

“The Elder desires you to join him in his suite, Natra.”


	3. Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are no longer yourself. You belong to him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Collection  
> Author: MuseofScrolls  
> Chapter: One  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Sexual Situations, Non-consensual Sex/Implied Rape, Attempted Rape, Death  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Female Non-Human/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Predator or AVP franchise and earn no monetary funds for composing this work of fiction. However, all original characters found herein are my own and therefore should not be used in any other work of fiction without my express written permission.  
> Word Count: 4974

# Chapter 3: Resistance

“Go,” Vanika stated, placing a firm hand on the Natranian’s shoulder. “Quickly now.”

Lyra felt the tension within the Ahrakin’s grip, and she glanced at Vanika before staring at O’ni as he waited quietly. The anxiety she sensed from the Ahrakin female was unnerving, but Lyra slowly rose to her feet.

O’ni motioned towards the door and Lyra strode in that direction, his footsteps thudding behind her. As they moved towards Bha’ruk’s suite, Lyra became lost in her thoughts. What would Bha’ruk do to her? What could she possibly do in this situation? She could fight him off, or perhaps flee to another part of the ship... Her mind frowned as that idea reminded her of what Ta’al had said. _Even if I did run, there would be nowhere to hide, and no one would help me,_ Lyra thought, her eyes moving to the metal flooring. _By Zakor’s horns, what am I going to do?_

They stopped sooner than Lyra expected, and she looked up at the sliding doors before her as O’ni pressed the comm. The doors slid open, and O’ni motioned her inside with his spear, addressing his leader as he said, “Elder, I shall wait here outside.”

“Of course you will, idiot. That is your task,” Bha’ruk’s rough voice growled.

Swallowing slowly, Lyra moved into the room, the doors closing behind her. As she moved in further, she glanced surreptitiously around the room. The light was much dimmer than it was when she was here before, almost completely dark, making details difficult to decipher. Her eyes weren’t used to this kind of darkness, but her sense of hearing was heightened even more than was normal. She could hear Bha’ruk’s quiet breathing from across the room and as he approached her, his footsteps sounding like distant thunder.

A low chuckle came from Lyra’s right, and she took a step away as Bha’ruk said, “Even in this blackness, you still shine brightly, Natra.”

“Who could possibly ‘shine’ in a place like this?” she shot back, her nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“You still find a way.” His hand cupped around a lock of her long, silver hair, letting it slide across his palm. A purr rumbled in his chest at feeling the soft mane, but Bha’ruk stopped when her angry glare met his eyes. Raising a heavy brow indifferently, he said, “Such anger I see.”

“Why shouldn’t I be angry?” Lyra huffed, putting more distance between them. “You have me drugged, kidnapped and brought onto a strange vessel, and for what? To make me your slave?”

Bha’ruk clicked his mandibles thoughtfully, his eyes half-closed as he looked at her. “Natra, you are more than a mere slave to me. A slave would not be given the liberties I grant you and my other females.”

“‘Liberties’?” she gasped, clenching her fists. “And what are these so-called ‘liberties’?”

“I give you nourishment, clothing, and shelter, just as I have my other females. I ask for little in return,” he rumbled.

Lyra stomped her hoof in increasing anger. “ _Little_? Is it a little thing when you demand a person’s presence against their will? Is it a little thing when you punish them for not coming at once? You… you…”

“When we have mated, you will understand what is required of my females.” Bha’ruk approached her, stopping just a breath away from where the Natranian stood. He was surprised by her courage as she stood her ground, her lovely eyes dark with fury. Then, his gaze wandered down to the loose-fitting, blue dress she wore, and his mandibles rose in a smirk. “Purple.”

“What?” Lyra asked, her brow scrunching in confusion.

Bha’ruk moved to grasp part of her dress, ripping blue cloth from her body. She shrieked and clung to the remaining cloth, struggling to cover herself, and he growled, “That color is not worthy enough to be worn by you, Natra. Only a rich color, like your eyes, can grace your body.”

“You can’t be serious,” Lyra demanded, glaring at him and tying the remainder of her dress in place to maintain at least some level of modesty.

“Try me.” He leaned over the female, staring straight into her eyes. The elder reached for her, his hand almost touching her face, but he pulled back at the last moment, standing up straighter as he regarded her coolly. “However, I would not object if you would prefer to wear no clothing instead.”

Lyra grit her flat teeth and huffed, clenching her fists until her palms hurt and her knuckles cracked. How she wanted to strike him, to fight this horrid monster for what he’d done and what he’d just demanded of her. Ta’al’s words of warning were growing fainter in her mind, and Lyra inhaled slowly in an attempt to keep her mind in a rational state.

Bha’ruk chuckled at the anger that burned around the Natranian; it made her shine even brighter in his eyes. He strode to the door, still feeling her eyes upon him, and pressed the comm next to the door. “O’ni, we are done.”

The doors slid open and O’ni bowed, first to the elder, and then to Lyra where she stood behind the massive leader. Stomping to the doors, Lyra hurried past Bha’ruk but stopped when he rumbled, “Remember this, Natra. You are mine. My female.”

Lyra met his orange stare with narrowed eyes. “Never.”

“Mine,” he whispered with a smirk.

Turning from Bha’ruk, Lyra stomped into the corridor with O’ni following just behind her. She stopped as soon as she realized she was leading her “guard” rather than the other way around. If she was automatically heading in the direction of her room, that meant she was adjusting to the ship. Kicking the wall with a huff, Lyra looked at the half-moon-shaped dent she had left in the metal plating. _I’ll be damned if I allow myself to get used to this blasted ship._

Looking up, Lyra saw O’ni standing back and staring at her. She moved behind where he stood and waited in silence until he started walking down the corridor once more. Slowly, Lyra followed O’ni, barely glancing towards the large room where she had met Vanika and the others. Closing her eyes, Lyra knew she couldn’t become like them, and she would not accept this as her life.

xXx

Ta’al secured the medical bay, typing his code into the keypad next to the doors. Glancing around the locked chamber, he inspected and counted each of his tools and vials, always making sure everything was accounted for in his area. On this ship, one couldn’t take chances, especially with some of the warriors that served Bha’ruk.

Something blinked along his left wrist, and Ta’al scanned the chamber once more before tapping a claw on his gauntlet. Opening the small screen, he saw a message sent from outside the ship. [Tracking your coordinates now. –Cet]

_Da’ar._ Ta’al’s eyes widened.

The High Council had heard accusations and rumors regarding Bha’ruk, his state of mind, and his preference for females outside the Yautja race. Uncertain of the truth behind these claims, the High Council had decided to send in one of the Exiled--warriors who were forced to live outside the clans, usually due to their inability to live peacefully within a clan. 

Da’ar was the Exiled chosen by the High Council for this mission, and he had chosen Ta’al to aid him. The orders had been clear: join Bha’ruk’s ship, send reports of the unusual occurrences on the ship and then wait until reinforcements could be sent to assist him. That had been two years ago, and in the time that had passed Ta’al had faithfully implemented his part of the plan. With all that he’d seen, he knew Da’ar’s presence on the ship was sorely needed.

_It’s been awhile since Da’ar’s contacted me,_ he thought absently as he typed in his reply. [What is your location?]

[En route to ship’s position. New developments?] Da’ar’s message appeared on the screen.

Inhaling slowly, Ta’al sent his new message. [Natranian female captured.] He knew this news would not sit well with Da’ar, and he waited tensely for another reply.

A new message flashed across the small screen. [Six females total?]

[Correct. When do you arrive?] Ta’al was anxious, knowing that upon Da’ar’s arrival it would be as though they didn’t know each other. Clicking a mandible thoughtfully, Ta’al reminded himself that bringing in outside help would be something even if he couldn’t do much now.

[Within two or three weeks. Our contact ends after this message. –Cet]

_Da’ar… still going by your other name in messages, I see,_ Ta’al thought as the communication was broken. Closing his eyes, Ta’al recalled the last time he'd seen Da’ar before taking part in this mission. Black as deepest night with eyes of cold amber, it was no wonder most Yautja clans called Da’ar “Living Cetanu.” In certain other ways, Da’ar resembled the Yautja God of Death, but Ta’al knew that despite this, he was also as just as an Arbitrator.

With Da’ar on the ship, they stood a better chance of rescuing the females from Bha’ruk. _It’s up to you, my friend,_ Ta’al thought with a sigh. _May Paya help you arrive as quickly as possible._

xXx

Bha’ruk stood in his chambers staring outside one of the large windows, his thick arms crossed over his chest. One large clawed finger tapped against his arm as he recalled what happened mere moments earlier. He had summoned Natra here… yet all they had done was converse. Inhaling slowly, Bha’ruk knew he had every right to mate with her. He would mate with her--he believed this would happen. However…

_She is my female, but… something… there was something in her eyes,_ he thought, clicking a mandible. _I couldn’t touch her…_

Growling deep in his chest, Bha’ruk clenched his fists so tight his knuckles cracked. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t have just taken Natra unless… He stopped, looking at the area where she had stood and angrily faced him. Her eyes were so dark and with her long silver hair hanging about her squared shoulders, she looked almost like the goddess.

_Paya… you’ve had a hand in this,_ Bha’ruk noted, raising his mandibles in a sneer. _That will change, Goddess… believe me. You think you control all within your sight… you are wrong. I am the only one in control here._

The elder chuckled low in his chest as he approached a room adjacent to his main chamber. Tapping in his code, Bha’ruk strode inside and touched a panel next to the entrance. Lights flickered along the wall illuminating the entire room and all of its contents. Skulls of various sizes hung proudly on display, and his eyes wandered over each of them.

Bha’ruk stopped in front of one skull, smaller than most, and it was the whitest out of all his trophies. He trailed his fingers along the brow, lightly placing a fingertip against the two, stacked horns. It was odd how the males of Natra’s race were the only ones who had these spiraled bones growing from their foreheads, but the natural weaponry of Natra’s male companions mattered little to the elder. The only weapon Natra herself would bring to their mating would be her hard hooves.

_Natra… my own little goddess,_ he thought, rumbling in his chest. Then, Bha’ruk narrowed his eyes as he flared his mandibles. “You will have no influence over me, Paya… I will see to it.”

xXx…Two Weeks Later…xXx

The main lounge was quiet and subdued. While eight people in the large chamber was less than the usual twelve, Lyra knew that she, Vanika, Nemona, and Kudra were usually better company for each other. Lyra sighed as she leaned back against one of the pillows that filled the room and had the feeling that everything was exactly as it had been the day before. And the day before that, and the day before that…

Every morning, she woke up, dressed, and ate the breakfast O’ni brought to her. What surprised Lyra the most was that the food was actually from Unatra, crisp fruits and crunchy roots that she had consumed on a regular basis on her family’s ship. Following her meal, she was usually ushered into the main lounge by O’ni or visited by either Vanika or Sitana. The two females were very kind to Lyra, telling her tales and myths from their home worlds. Lyra was glad of their presence, even if it was likely only their attempt to lighten her spirits, but the past two weeks had been extremely trying on her nerves what with each day being practically the same as the previous.

“How have you coped with this for as long as you have, Vanika? What do you do day after day?” Lyra asked as she slumped down among the floor pillows.

“We each find our own ways to pass the time, Natra,” Vanika said, her four arms moving in quick succession as a piece of material was slowly transformed into a dress. 

Lyra knew this one was for Rani judging by the deep blue shade of the material as well as the size and length of the dress. The Ahrakin’s work never ceased to amaze the Natranian, but Lyra dreaded opening her own closet each morning. Violet, lavender, lilac… each shade of purple one could imagine was found in her wardrobe.

With a small huff, Lyra looked up at Vanika, begging, “Please, could I have a dress like Rani’s, Vanika?”

“I believe you have one in this style already, Natra.” The Ahrakin female chewed on her lip as she stitched a seam, facing the Natranian. “Are you not happy with my work?”

“It’s not that, I promise you. I’m just so sick of the color purple I could scream.”

Vanika’s eyes went down to the pillows as she sighed. “There’s nothing I can do, Natra. Bha’ruk ordered me to only give you clothes made of purple material.”

Gritting her teeth, Lyra grabbed a pillow and flung it across the room, toward where O’ni stood with the other three guards. His eyes widened, surprised as he saw the projectile just before it struck his chest with a soft ‘whoomph’ sound, falling to the floor. O’ni looked at Lyra, but she just sighed heavily and buried her face into another cushion.

Inhaling slowly, Lyra raised her head and saw the other females looking at her, and she sat up. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me.”

“Do not apologize for a logical reaction, Natra,” Vanika murmured, placing a hand on the female’s shoulder. “I shrieked my lungs out within the first week, bursting into tears right afterwards.”

Lyra patted Vanika’s dark hand, saying, “I wouldn’t believe it with how you’ve helped me, and how you keep helping all of us.”

Sighing, the Ahrakin shook her head. “It’s only because no one was able to help make my adjustments here easier.”

“I promise you, I won’t adjust.”

“Although I’m loath to say it, you will… either that or…” Vanika stopped, closing her eyes to that train of thought. “Never mind. Nemona, would you care to play anything today?”

The Nimonae female looked up at Vanika from her seat a short ways from where the Ahrakin and Natranian sat, sighing softly. “New strings are needed for my sinaar… but I could sing…”

“Please do, my dear.” The Ahrakin smiled warmly at Nemona, hoping to encourage the female to do what she seemed to love. “Natra, I don’t think you’ve heard Nemona sing before.”

“I haven’t.” Lyra shook her head as she turned towards the blue-scaled female.

Nemona inhaled several times then started humming a soft melody, slowly opening her mouth to give voice to the song. It wasn’t a song filled with words, instead a melody that she used to express what she felt. To Lyra’s ears, the sound reminded her of the calm rains on Unatra, both refreshing to the grassy meadows yet at the same time melancholy as the planet seemed to weep.

When she ended her song, Nemona’s eyes were brimming with tears, but she blinked them back. Nemona nodded her head when Vanika paused in her sewing to clap all of her hands. Lyra joined in the clapping after swallowing a hard lump in her throat. It was difficult hearing something so beautiful that reminded her of home, a place she wasn’t sure would ever be within her reach again.

Then, Lyra’s eyes widened when she felt hands touching her long hair, and she turned to see Kudra’s cloaked and hooded form seated just behind her. Kudra’s fingers were a soft pink, and she picked up Lyra’s whole mane. Watching the female, Lyra wondered what Kudra was up to until the smaller female started combing her fingers through the silver hair, separating the mane.

“Kudra has nimble fingers, Natra,” Vanika said, drawing Lyra’s attention to the Ahrakin. “She’s good at helping me spin thread… I think she wants to plait your hair.”

“Well, I suppose that’s alright,” Lyra stated, her eyes going back to Kudra. “I just wish you would have asked me first before touching.”

Kudra’s fingers stopped and her form slumped down, the hood drooping even further over her face. The female remained quiet, which made silence settle over all the females present.

Lyra held up a hand, turning her head back around. “It’s alright, Kudra, please go ahead.” If it would help ease Kudra’s tension, she could have her hair braided.

Slowly, Kudra returned to her task, dividing Lyra’s hair into three large sections. Lyra felt her breathing ease as she sat still and allowed her hair to be braided. It had been awhile since her hair had been braided, even longer since someone had done it for her. As she sat, she remembered how she and Cora would take turns brushing each other’s manes, but nothing more was done. Having her hair plaited was different, but it felt somewhat relaxing and it was a change in the day’s pace.

Vanika smiled at the Natranian, returning once again to the dress forming in her four arms. She knew that Rani would like the feel of this soft, almost fur-like material, or at least she hoped the Vulfrani would like it. Her tiny lips drew down in a thoughtful frown as she looked once more at the newest female.

_Rani was strong-willed like Natra when she was first brought here… now look at her. She hardly speaks, and barely interacts with the rest of us._ The Ahrakin shook her head, all four eyes focused on the blue dress even if her thoughts weren’t on it right now. What would happen when Bha’ruk took Natra? Not ‘if’, ‘when’, for Vanika knew it was only a matter of time until the elder mated with his newest female. Would Natra be forced into silence like Rani and Kudra?

Closing her eyes, Vanika squeezed back the gathering moisture and swallowed hard, inhaling sharply. She felt a hand on her arm, hearing a voice say, “Vanika?”

“Hmmm?” The Ahrakin female looked at her as the Natranian gave a concerned look. “What is it, Natra?”

“You’re bleeding,” Lyra said, pointing to Vanika’s fingers and making the Ahrakin pull her hand away from the dress to not drip on it. “What happened?”

“I think one of the needles slipped,” Vanika murmured, pressing her thumb against her pricked index and middle fingers to staunch the bleeding. “Careless on my part, a seamstress of my experience shouldn’t allow a needle to prick my hand twice.”

Twisting her mouth to the side, Lyra wondered what could have made Vanika so agitated. Then again, what _couldn’t_ agitate them on this ship? Practically everything… except Ta’al. He seemed to be the only solace for the other females, at least from what Lyra had heard from Vanika and Sitana. Lyra couldn’t echo their sentiments entirely because she had not seen the healer since her first day here.

_And that’s probably a good sign,_ Lyra thought, rolling her shoulders to stretch them out. She moved her head from side to side, feeling the weight of her braided hair shift around her back before coming to a rest along her spine and rump. Grasping the thick braid, Lyra pulled it in front of her shoulder, admiring Kudra’s work.

The lounge doors slid open, and all four females looked up as their guards stepped aside, bowing their heads. Bha’ruk strode inside the immense room, hands clasped behind his back as he approached the cluster of females on the floor pillows. His eyes wandered over Vanika who had immediately returned to her sewing, and then his gaze swept over Nemona and Kudra as they bowed their backs in positions of submission.

Trilling to himself, Bha’ruk paused next to Kudra where she sat motionless, and he placed a hand along the top of her hooded head. The tremor that moved from her head to his hand made him raise a brow, but Bha’ruk merely patted her head, moving away from her.

Stopping next to Natra, Bha’ruk stared at the length of braided silver hair lying along her back. It had been at least three days since he had seen Natra, yet her image was burned in his mind. Her long hair always hung freely around her shoulders and backside, and it was almost disappointing for Bha’ruk to see it bound as it was.

Bha’ruk’s hand closed around the braid, his fingers brushing her back momentarily before Natra inched away, turning to give him an angry glare. Ah, yes, how it fueled his blood to see such fire in her violet eyes, making them appear even darker. His mandibles clicked softly as he slid her braid through his cupped hand. “Natra… you’ve bound your hair.”

“What of it?” Lyra huffed, flaring her nostrils and wishing he would stop touching her.

Chuckling deep in his chest, Bha’ruk dropped the plait and slowly began to circle her. “It should be loose, not trapped as it is.”

“Do you mean trapped like I am trapped here? And like they are?” Lyra pointed to the other three females, but her glare followed him as he moved around her body. “If that’s true, then by your logic we should be loose as well.”

“It is not the same, and you know it, my female.” A low growl escaped Bha’ruk’s throat.

“I am not yours,” she ground out from her clenched teeth. “And I may do with my hair as I wish.”

Raising a heavy brow, Bha’ruk glared at the other four Yautja in the room, growling, “All of you, get out now.” When the four hesitated to do as ordered, he snarled, “Take my females to their rooms now!”

Instantly, the guards moved towards the females, helping them stand and leading them out of the lounge, all except for Lyra as Bha’ruk blocked O’ni. “Not her. Get out, and return when you are summoned.”

“Yes, Elder,” O’ni said, quickly bowing to Bha’ruk and then striding into the outer corridor.

Bha’ruk inhaled deeply, turning to face Natra as she knelt on the floor pillows, her angry gaze still on him. Slowly walking behind her, he grasped her braided mane, running his fingers up the soft plait to the part between her shoulder blades. “You bring up a valid point, Natra. You may do with your hair as you like…”

Exhaling in a huff, Lyra was about to open her mouth to speak when she heard the soft ‘shing’ of an unsheathed blade. Her eyes widened as she felt a tug on her hair, then nothing. There was no weight of her mane against her back. Whipping her head around, Lyra stared at the length of silver braid held within Bha’ruk’s hand as he sheathed the small blade at his waist.

“What…?” she gasped, her mouth gaping open.

“As I was saying, you may do with it as you like… but it is mine to take when I want,” Bha’ruk growled, raising his mandibles in a smirk. He stared at Natra with hooded eyes as her shortened hair fell just below her pale shoulders. True, he would miss the chance to tangle his claws in her long mane, but this way she couldn’t use it to conceal any part of her naked body.

Lyra stared at her hair held by Bha’ruk, taken away from her with a single slice of a blade. Slowly standing, her wide eyes moved from the braid to Bha’ruk’s mocking orange gaze. How could he? How dare this… _monster_ steal her mane! Without thinking, Lyra charged straight for him, shrieking in her highest pitch.

Gathering her legs, Lyra twisted in midair, lashing out with her hooved feet and striking Bha’ruk’s abdomen, one of the places without armor. She brought her leg back again and leaned over at a deep angle, driving her hoof against his shoulder guard and leaving a large dent in the metal.

Bha’ruk was caught off guard by the first two strikes as she attacked him, but he recovered fast, dropping the plait of hair to block his neck from her open-palm strike. Flaring his mandibles, he roared and grabbed her forearm when she tried to hit his throat. This did little to quell the fight in her as Lyra brought her leg up and swiftly kicked his thigh.

Hissing as he felt the trickle of blood along his leg, Bha’ruk was astonished by the ferocity of Natra’s onslaught, not expecting such a battle from her. But to see it now, to see the storms unleashed in those dark eyes of hers was enough to electrify him, and he felt his unfulfilled desires flare up within him, pooling suddenly and viciously between his legs. Releasing her arm, his hand shot up and gripped Natra’s throat, swinging her body around, and he shoved her against the wall.

Lyra clawed at his arm, struggling to get loose, but Bha’ruk pinned her lower body against the wall with his own muscular bulk. Baring her teeth, her head lashed from side to side and she brought a fist back, preparing to hit his face. Before she could strike, he grabbed her wrist, snatching her other hand and forcing her arms above her head.

Both of them panted heavily, and Bha’ruk pressed his closed mandibles against her hair, inhaling deeply as she shrieked and tried to move away. Her scent was so strong, making him dizzy with arousal and want, the closeness of her body driving him mad, and Bha’ruk brought his head back to stare at her with hooded eyes. “I’ve never… wanted to mate this much. Natra, you… are my prized female.”

“I… am… not… yours!” she shrieked, her eyes blazing as she grit her flat teeth. “I will _never_ mate with you!”

The angry visage of the goddess flashed in front of Lyra’s face, and Bha’ruk’s eyes widened then quickly narrowed. “You… will not control me, Paya!” 

His growl escalated to a roar and he thrust Natra’s head against the wall in a violent movement he couldn’t stop himself from repeating. When he stopped, her head sagged to the side and her eyes were closed.

Huffing, Bha’ruk stared at her limp state, but her pulse beat against his hand as he still held her neck. He groaned as the pounding in his head and his groin demanded he take her now, but he shoved that thought away. Why should he plunge himself into her unconscious form now? The image of Natra writhing beneath him, her white skin shining against the dark covers of his bed was much more pleasing. He could wait.

Bha’ruk released her arms and bent down to pick up her legs, gathering her body and carrying her towards the middle of the lounge. He stopped when his gauntlet flashed, drawing his attention. Lowering Natra to the pile of floor pillows, he brought up his wrist, demanding, “What is it?”

“There’s a small cruiser approaching the ship, Elder,” Ji’ran’s voice growled.

“What of it?” Bha’ruk snarled, glancing at Natra’s prone form on the pillows.

“It looks like an Exiled’s ship… and they’re requesting to dock with us.”

Raising a curious brow, Bha’ruk questioned which Exiled Yautja was coming to him this time. He didn’t make it a habit of aiding all Exiled, but he knew never to look away from any opportunity that could be used to his advantage. “Allow them to dock, Ji’ran. I’ll be there soon to speak with this Exiled.”

“Yes, Elder,” Ji’ran answered, ending their contact.

Bha’ruk stared at the Natranian again, moving to where he had dropped the plait of her hair. Picking it up, he held it to his waist, tucking each end inside his belt at the sides. He looked down, briefly admiring his new “sash”, and then moved to the doors.

Stepping outside, Bha’ruk stared at O’ni as the guard stood completely still at his post on one side of the lounge entrance. “Take Natra to her room, and contact the healer.”

“Elder?” O’ni asked, giving a questioning look to Bha’ruk.

“You heard me, now do it!” Bha’ruk barked, striding down the corridor towards the elevators. “I shouldn’t have to waste my time repeating my orders.”

“Yes, Elder,” O’ni answered, bowing and walking inside the lounge. He stopped after seeing Natra lying on the pillows, her face contorted in a pained expression. Inhaling slowly, O’ni approached her and collapsed his spear, slipping it into its casing on his back. The guard bent down and gently scooped the Natranian into his arms, moving outside the lounge towards her room.


	4. Assistance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are no longer yourself. You belong to him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Collection  
> Author: MuseofScrolls  
> Chapter: Four  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Sexual Situations, Non-consensual Sex/Implied Rape, Attempted Rape, Death  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Female Non-Human/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Predator or AVP franchise and earn no monetary funds for composing this work of fiction. However, all original characters found herein are my own and therefore should not be used in any other work of fiction without my express written permission.  
> Word Count: 4730

# Chapter 4: Assistance?

Lyra felt like she was floating amongst white clouds, the warmth of the sun shining against her shoulders. But she knew the familiar, peaceful calm wouldn’t last. Soon swelling black thunderheads surrounded her, and she stared into the thick of them. The black clouds parted, revealing a massive figure even darker than the billows around him.

Blinking her eyes rapidly, Lyra lowered her head in a modified bow, slowly looking up into a strong face. His eyes were the color of melted gold, and the twin stacked horns in the center of his forehead were illuminated by lightning bolts. Kneeling down, he smiled at Lyra, saying, “Young one, you still show no fear in my presence.”

“It’s because I know you, my lord,” Lyra told him. “I have seen you too many times in my dreams to not know you.”

“Yes, I know members of your family have been blessed by this gift, able to recognize my presence in your dreams.” He nodded. “However, I sensed that you were seeking me this time. What troubles you, my child?”

Lyra bit her lower lip. It didn’t feel right to be questioning the logic of her god, but she was unsure that what had happened to her was in his plans. “Lord Zakor, please tell me why I’ve been placed in this situation. Taken from Unatra, stolen from my family, and forced to be a mate to this… monster! Why? Just tell me.”

Zakor tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes, opening them and staring directly into Lyra’s questioning gaze. His nostrils flared as he cupped an immense hand around her smaller body and picked her up. _You doubt me, Zakiryn Lyra, daughter of Zakiryns Uran and Illora._

Cringing at the thunder in his tone, Lyra said, “No, my lord! I don’t doubt…”

_You do not feel this is your place, therefore you doubt my judgment,_ his voice boomed in her mind. _If you truly do not doubt, trust in me as you have before, as a Zakiryn, a faithful warrior of my people._

“Forgive me, my lord.” Lyra lowered her head, tears forming in her eyes. It had been ages since she felt the need to cry, and water trails trickled down her cheeks. “I just… miss my family, and they must be so worried. And I fear for the other females here, too.”

“Then, you must remain strong for them,” Zakor said, his voice softer than it was in her mind. “Remember, my child, there is reason behind everything that happens to us. Sometimes only time can reveal that reason.”

Lyra nodded and looked up at him. “I will do my best to remember, my lord.”

“And know this.” Zakor slowly lowered Lyra back down to the clouds. “My messengers take on many forms…”

 

Gasping as she woke, Lyra blinked her eyes open, shutting them tight when the brightness of the room blurred her vision. She heard someone speak in a growling tone but couldn’t quite make out the words. Then, a large, firm hand touched her forehead, and her eyes snapped open to see a watery, blue figure beside her. 

“T… Ta’al?” she asked shakily, thinking it was the healer.

“Thank the gods you’ve come to, Natra,” Ta’al said, huffing with relief. He gently lifted her head, gingerly touching the back, but stopped when she winced and tried to move away from him. 

“That bastard,” he mumbled under his breath, glancing over his shoulder at O’ni sitting beside the entrance.

The guard didn’t raise his head from where he had sat the entire time waiting for the female to wake. She was his charge, nothing more. Yet something prodded at the back of his mind about finding Natra in the room unconscious after the elder left. He was supposed to protect her from other males… but what about Bha’ruk? Shaking his head, O’ni met Ta’al’s silver gaze then glanced at the female, still lying on the examination table.

“I’ll need to keep her here for a little while, O’ni, to make sure she hasn’t sustained any damage,” Ta’al said, facing the guard. “Why don’t you bring her something to eat or perhaps get something for yourself?”

O’ni nodded and stood without saying a word. He saw Natra’s dark eyes on him and he looked away quickly, moving outside the room, the door closing behind him.

Releasing a sigh, Ta’al shook his head, thinking, _Silence won’t do any good, boy._

Lyra sat up carefully, wincing as she took a deep gulp of air. She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to clear her vision. When she faced Ta’al, the only blurry portion of the healer was the outline of his body. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours, Lyra.” He practically whispered her true name. Even with O’ni gone, Ta’al was still unsure about using her name, especially since Bha’ruk had given her one.

Staring at him with wide eyes, Lyra breathed, “Thank you. It’s been so long since I’ve heard my own name from another.”

“I won’t use it in front of others… I didn’t think you’d favor that.”

“No. It’s one thing that monster can’t have,” she grit, her nostrils flaring. Raising a hand, she felt along the back of her head, hissing when she touched a tender spot. Her fingers ran through her hair, stopping at the edges brushing along her shoulder. “My hair…”

Swallowing hard at seeing the drastic change in length and Lyra’s tone, Ta’al moved to the cabinet, searching for a shearing blade. “I can even out the edges.”

She shook her head, her silver hair falling just to her collarbone, murmuring, “That’s not the point. He took it… like it was… nothing.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from him,” Ta’al growled, clenching a fist as his shoulders shook, sighing to try and relax them. “Lyra… should I even ask what happened? O’ni only said that he found you unconscious in the main lounge after Bha’ruk left.”

Lyra’s mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed, glaring at the door. “All I really remember is he cut my hair… and then I attacked him.”

“You what?” He turned to face the female, his eyes wide.

“I attacked him,” she repeated, meeting his stare. “I remember striking him at least twice before he grabbed and pushed me against the wall. By Zakor’s horns… I thought I was going to be sick, having him press against me like that.”

Ta’al shook his head, his upper mandibles curling up in disgust at Bha’ruk’s actions. Even knowing what the Elder was like, Bha’ruk still managed to shock the healer. Strangely enough, Ta’al knew the reason why. He had not truly become acclimated to the ways of the ship. His two years here had not made him blind to what he saw, and one of the main reasons that he was able to maintain such a steady hold on his ethics was because of his contacts with Da’ar. The healer couldn’t turn away from what happened to the females; Ta’al wouldn’t allow himself that luxury.

“He did say something before I blacked out.” Lyra’s voice broke through Ta’al’s thoughts, and he focused on her. “Something like… ‘Paya’ and control.”

“He called you ‘Paya’?” Ta’al asked, tilting his head curiously.

She shook her head, frowning. “I don’t know if he called me that, but he was facing me when he said it… I’m just not sure if he was focusing on me. What is ‘Paya’?”

“Paya is not a ‘what’, she is a ‘who’,” the healer answered. He leaned against the cabinet behind him, still facing Lyra. “She is our goddess, in the most basic terms. She manifests as a white being with dark eyes, which could explain his reference to her while looking at you.”

“After hearing that, I blacked out from the blow,” Lyra continued, her hand lightly touching the tender spot. “Was there any internal damage?”

“I did a scan once O’ni brought you here, and it just looks like bruising under that small lump. No skull fractures, so it was only a mild concussion, which is why I kept you here.” The healer inhaled, shaking his head in mild confusion. “But blows from a Yautja male would normally cause more damage, especially to another race.”

Rubbing her hand against her head, Lyra felt the pain slowly subsiding until it was only a slight twinge. “There’s an element in our blood that allows for quicker healing, but it usually depends on the injury. If it had been a fracture, I’m not sure I would be awake now… perhaps after several days, yes.”

The door slid open, making Ta’al look up and grimace while Lyra glared in the direction of the door. The healer stalked towards the door where Ji’ran stood, growling, “What do you want, Ji’ran?”

“There’ve been some injuries in the sparring hall,” Ji’ran rumbled back, his eyes drifting towards the female. “Your assistance is needed for several warriors.”

“It will have to wait.” Ta’al cursed himself for not securing the facility after O’ni left, and he noticed the look Ji’ran gave Lyra. “Natra is in more need of my assistance right now.”

Moving around where the healer stood, Ji’ran stared at the Natranian, his eyes roving her body, pausing on her covered breasts and full hips. “She seems fine enough.”

“That is for me to decide, not you,” Ta’al hissed, stepping in front of the lieutenant, blocking his view of the female. “Get back to the sparring hall and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Eying the Natranian with a slit gaze, Ji’ran purred in her direction, striding outside the room. He moved down the corridor quickly, raising his wrist up and contacting Y’un in the sparring hall. “I have something to take care of, but the healer will be on his way soon.” Before Y’un could respond, Ji’ran closed the communication link, quickening his pace.

In the medical facility, Ta’al clenched his inner teeth as he stabbed in the secure code to the door. Turning toward Lyra, he sighed, “My apologies, I should have secured the door before.”

“He is almost as unnerving as Bha’ruk.” Lyra grit her teeth, huffing sharply. Then, she looked at the healer, her eyes analyzing him. “Ta’al, why are you here?”

His head reared back and he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Why are you on this ship amongst a crew who blindly serve a perverse tyrant? You don’t fit with the rest of them, so why stay here?”

“It’s complicated.” Exhaling heavily, the healer shook his head, uncertain if he should explain his motives to Lyra. He weighed the options, deciding it was too risky to tell her everything. “When I first came here, I was looking for a clan that needed my services. I was unaware of Bha’ruk’s nature or the state of the others on the ship.”

Lyra nodded, seeing the logic of his words, murmuring, “You seem to be the only one who tries to help Vanika, Sitana and the others.”

“If I wasn’t here, who would do that in my stead?” he asked, raising a brow. “I have my reasons for being here and for staying here.”

_There is reason behind everything…_ Lyra recalled Zakor’s words spoken in her dream, and then smiled at the healer. “I’m sure they appreciate your efforts, Ta’al.”

Raising his upper mandibles in a Yautja equivalent of a smile, Ta’al approached Lyra, saying, “Let me see that lump again. It seemed smaller during my inspection after you woke.”

“It’s probably gone now that I’m awake,” she told him, sitting still while his fingers gently parted her hair. “I don’t feel any of the pain I felt when I came to at first.”

“Good,” he growled softly. Ta’al felt no sign of the lump, and though he was relieved that her injury was gone, the healer also worried about removing her from the facility. At least here, he could provide the females some relief and time away from Bha’ruk. “Feels like it’s gone, but I’m not sure I should release you just yet.”

“Ta’al, what if one of the others needs you?” she asked, her mouth twisting to the side. “Besides, you are needed elsewhere now.”

With a heavy sigh, the healer nodded. “Unfortunately, you’re right even though I doubt it’s an emergency. I don’t think Ji’ran would have taken the time to come here himself rather than contact me through a communication channel. I’ll wait until O’ni returns to escort you back.”

Almost immediately after Ta’al’s words, the comm to the medical facility buzzed before someone tapped on the door three times then two softer times. “Speak of the warrior and he shall come,” the healer said, moving to unlock the door.

O’ni stood in the entrance, two large keesah fruits in his hand from what Lyra could see. A fruit native to Unatra, their thick rinds were a deep shade of magenta, showing they were ready to eat. Looking at her guard, she shook her head when he didn’t even meet her eyes. She curled her legs under her, slipping off the examination table, keeping a hand on it for a moment.

Ta’al watched Lyra, his legs ready to hasten to her side in case she needed assistance. But her own limbs remained steady, and she walked towards where he and O’ni stood. “O’ni, I have some other injuries to deal with, so Natra’s released back into your care.”

Nodding heavily, O’ni stepped back to allow the female to leave the facility, freezing when she stopped in front of him. Her hands reached out and took the fruits from his hand, and the guard blinked, lifting his head to face her. She stared at him with those dark eyes, nodding and then walking past him into the corridor. O’ni moved to follow her, but Ta’al placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Guard her well, O’ni.”

“I intend to, Healer.” The guard stared at Ta’al, his upper mandibles clicking in annoyance. “That is my task.”

Shaking his head, Ta’al removed his hand, turning away from the younger male and growling, “You don’t understand. Just go.”

O’ni stared at the healer’s back before the door slid closed, and he turned in the corridor, seeing Natra waiting for him. Unsheathing the spear from its casing on his back, O’ni approached her, motioning towards the elevators at the end of the passageway with his spear. She nodded to him, matching his pace, and he glanced at the Natranian briefly, growling to himself and leading her through the corridor.

xXx

Bha’ruk made his way to the docking area where he saw at least seven of his warriors standing with their weapons in hand, aimed towards the strange Exiled Yautja. Curling his upper mandibles in a sneer, he thought the others were being paranoid about the arrival. _Overly suspicious… perhaps I trained them too well,_ he thought, halting when he looked upon the exiled one. Black as the depths of space, this Yautja stood as tall if not taller than Bha’ruk, and the elder’s eyes slit in interest.

“Well, this is a rather unexpected arrival,” Bha’ruk growled, staring at the newcomer. “To what do I owe this… visit from Da’ar, Living Cetanu?”

The dark Yautja angled his head in a greeting to the elder, motioning towards his cruiser, one much larger than normal cruisers. “If you will forgive my intrusion, Elder, but I’ve been drifting about the varying sectors many years now. I grow tired of having to negotiate unfairly with the clan ships I come across merely to obtain assistance with my cruiser or to resupply its stores.”

“Spare me the details of your problems. What are you here for, Da’ar?” Bha’ruk sneered, searching for any sign that could betray the Yautja’s motives.

Da’ar raised a brow as he was finally face to face with the elder after many messages exchanged with Ta’al. Already the dark Yautja saw the suspicious nature Bha’ruk had passed on to his own warriors. Why should they be so distrustful with a visitor, even an Exiled, unless there was something to conceal? But Da’ar knew he needed proof beyond Ta’al’s eyes and word before he could take any action against the elder. 

His eyes remained locked with Bha’ruk’s as Da’ar removed his spear from its case, setting it on the floor in front of his feet. Unsheathing the twin blades bound at his thighs, he laid both of them in front of the spear, crossing one curved blade over the other.

Bending his knees, Da’ar lowered his body into a crouched position, bowing his head to Bha’ruk. “I offer my services as a warrior to you, Elder, if you permit me alliance with your ship.”

Bha’ruk’s brows lifted at that as he recalled many rumors of those who came into contact with the ‘Living Cetanu.’ Warriors trembled before Da’ar, giving him wide berth, females avoided him entirely, and his own parents had exiled him as a young blood. His name was rarely spoken openly, and his mere presence seemed to unnerve any Yautja. Having someone like Da’ar would be quite an advantage, and the elder nodded his head.

Stepping in front of the seven armed warriors, Bha’ruk sliced a hand through the air in a dismissive motion. Not one of their weapons powered down, and he reeled on them with a snarl, “Stand… down… now.”

All seven slowly lowered their weapons, still maintaining visual contact with the shadowy Yautja kneeling before their elder, and Bha’ruk huffed at them. Returning his attention to Da’ar, the elder knelt down to pick up one of the blades. The metal grip molded around a bone handle suitable for sustaining a stable hold on the weapon. Circling his wrist, he watched the blade move in an even arc, light glinting off the smooth metal. Bha’ruk tossed the blade in front of him, carefully catching it by the tip and then grasping the handle, running his thumb against the edge.

A thin line of green blood appeared along the pad of his thumb, and Bha’ruk chuckled. “You keep them sharp enough, don’t you, Da’ar?”

“A warrior is only as sharp as his weapons,” Da’ar growled quietly. Cool blood pumped through his arms and down to his hands, lightly touching the metal flooring of the ship. He kept his eyes on the floor, having no desire to watch this so-called ‘Elder’ handle his weapon. Feeling the point of the blade lightly press against the side of his neck, Da’ar remained calm and motionless.

“I could kill you… I should, knowing who you are, Living Cetanu,” Bha’ruk hissed, tightening his grip on the handle.

_Accepting me before he suggests killing me… he is as reckless as Ta’al said._ Giving the elder a sideways glance, Da’ar kept his hands still. “But I doubt that would be beneficial to you, Elder.”

Bha’ruk raised a thoughtful brow, slowly moving the blade from Da’ar’s neck down to his naked bicep. “How right you are, Da’ar…” 

Digging the point inside the black muscle, he carved a jagged line, bisecting it with a curve, the symbol of the Ty’rath-di, his clan. He watched the dark Yautja’s face, seeing no reaction to the cut even when Bha’ruk pressed the point further into the symbol’s curve, making a deeper indentation.

Feeling the tip of his own blade inside his skin was nothing to Da’ar when compared with the appearance of the symbol on his arm. Never mind it, he told himself. Pride would not help him locate the females Bha’ruk had captured, and he recalled Ta’al’s last message. _A Natranian female now…_ He fought the urge to shake his head in disgust at the elder marking him as part of the ship.

“Take your weapons and come with me,” Bha’ruk ordered, tossing the blade on top of its twin. A disrespectful way to treat another’s weapons, yet still he received no reaction from the black Yautja. The elder was beginning to think having Da’ar as part of his warriors would be more of an advantage than he originally believed.

Raising his head, Da’ar glanced at Bha’ruk as the elder stood waiting, his thick arms crossed over his chest. He sheathed his blades and placed the spear back into its case along his back, standing and matching Bha’ruk’s long stride towards the elevator. Da’ar took his place just behind the elder inside the lift, the two immense Yautja standing in silence as the doors slid shut.

“As one of my crew, you’ll be given sleeping quarters on the warriors’ level,” Bha’ruk stated, clasping his hands behind his back as the lift rose. “The main areas you are allowed in are your own rooms, the sparring and training halls, the medical facility, and the refectory. You will only be granted access to my personal level when I summon you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Elder,” Da’ar replied quietly.

Bha’ruk turned his head just enough to see the dark Yautja’s face, but Da’ar’s eyes were on the elevator doors. The elder’s upper mandibles clicked lightly as he saw they were approaching the medical level, and he said, “If you come across any of my females in the medical facility, you are to wait outside until the healer is finished. Do not speak with them.”

“As you command, Elder.”

The lift stopped on the medical level and the doors slid open, revealing Lyra and O’ni standing in front of the elevator entrance. Bha’ruk slit his eyes, purring to the Natranian as her gaze widened, then narrowed sharply. She stepped back, but O’ni gestured for her to move forward. The elder held up an arm, silently ordering Da’ar to move back, making room for the female and her guard.

Gritting her teeth, Lyra stepped onto the lift, barely registering the fact that there was another Yautja in the elevator with Bha’ruk. She glared at Bha’ruk as he stared at her, his eyes hooded. Her nostrils flared angrily as she kept him within her sight, stepping back and bumping against O’ni when Bha’ruk reached out to finger her hair.

Looking at the Natranian female, Da’ar could see the tension build in her shoulders as she walked inside the lift. She moved as far from Bha’ruk as possible, but the other Yautja with her stood at her side opposite the elder. This left Da’ar to view her from behind, and he noticed the short length of her hair. His gaze drifted to the white wrap at Bha’ruk’s waist, realizing it must be the female’s mane.

“I hope you’re feeling better, Natra,” Bha’ruk rumbled to her, almost ignoring the other two males present.

“I’d be much better if I weren’t in this lift,” she hissed, hitting his hand away from her. “Or on this ship for that matter.”

Shaking his head, Bha’ruk closed the short distance between them. “Natra, we have spoken on that before. You are my female.”

He raised a hand to her chin, but Lyra jerked out of his grasp, leaning back and kicking his upper thigh. Clenching her hands, she brought back a fist, but O’ni’s grip on her arm stopped her. She looked over her shoulder at his shaking head, and she faced Bha’ruk again, huffing, “I am not your female. And I never will be.”

Bha’ruk barely hissed at the strike this time, though he felt more blood trickling down his leg from where the first wound had opened again. Seeing O’ni holding her back made a deep rumble erupt from the elder’s throat. “You _are_ mine, Natra, and it will be consummated soon.”

“Elder, is this our level?” Da’ar interrupted when the lift started slowing down.

Glancing at the dark Yautja and then the current level, Bha’ruk nodded. “Yes, the warriors’ level. I shall see you at a later time, my Natra.” He closed in on her, flaring his mandibles and inhaling deeply as she bared her flat teeth at him. Chuckling, Bha’ruk strode out of the open doors, waiting for Da’ar to follow.

Lyra exhaled sharply, turning her face away from Bha’ruk and noticing the strange Yautja. His body was immense, tall enough for the top of her head to barely reach his chin, and black as the darkest cavern on Unatra. _All black…_ she thought, staring at him. _Could he be…? No, that’s impossible._ He glanced her way, and she met a cold stare as he moved past her, hearing him cough.

Blinking, her brow furrowed as Lyra thought she had heard something odd. He coughed again just as the door slid closed, and she heard her blood pumping in her ears. When he had coughed, both times it sounded like ‘Help… you…’ in her language. How could a Yautja know the Natranian language?

Shaking her head, Lyra believed she was so desperate to get out of here that she was hearing things. But she couldn’t help remembering what Zakor said just before she woke. _My messengers take on many forms…_

xXx

Bending over, Ji’ran knelt down to the metal flooring, his mandibles splayed as his breath came in short pants. A layer of sweat covered his entire body as he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. _Damn… was hoping the run would do the trick,_ he thought, swallowing thickly and standing up.

The lieutenant stretched his legs, running another circuit on one of the less-frequented levels. This level was closest to the central heating core of the clan ship, creating an ideal running environment. Ji’ran had done circuits here before but never over a dozen. He was on his twentieth circuit when he finally stopped, crouching down again, panting furiously.

Groaning, the juncture of his legs grew rigid once more as the scent of the Natranian came to him again. Ji’ran looked around, knowing she was nowhere in sight and not even anywhere near this level, and a roar exploded from his throat. His fist punched the wall next to him, leaving behind a large dent.

“Why the pauk couldn’t Bha’ruk have made _me_ her guard?” he snarled, glaring fiercely at the ceiling.

Ji’ran stiffly rose to his feet and staggered to one of the side corridors, moving into the shadows. Ripping his cloth off with a hiss, he detached the metal codpiece, releasing his straining erection. His hand wrapped around the base of his engorged flesh, and he shut his eyes, picturing Natra in his mind. Her limber, white thighs clamped around his waist, pulling him closer to her most sensitive skin.

_Natra…_ he moaned in his mind as his hand slowly moved down to the head, sliding back up to the base. Ji’ran imagined her warm center gradually enveloping him, the ridges of his member stroking against her inner walls. As he saw her face in his mind, her mouth fell open in a low moan as she pressed against his chest, her supple breasts crushed against his solid muscle.

Pumping harder, Ji’ran felt his blood already rushing to the tip, and he grunted still fantasizing about Natra. His hand fisted her silver hair, so soft in his grasp, and he shoved into her, hearing her cries while he moved inside her. He squeezed his erection, thinking of her walls closing around him tightly, holding him there as his hips slapped against hers. Slamming his free hand against the wall, his claws dug into the metal plating, clutching to get a deep hold. With a guttural roar, Ji’ran released his seed on the metal flooring.

Panting heavily, Ji’ran fell back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. Leaning his head back, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Natra’s figure appeared, holding a hand out to him, and Ji’ran blinked, shaking his head. He knew she would not approach him in such a means, but her curved hips still called to his hands to clamp down on them.

_By the gods…_ he thought as blood rushed to his head from the furrows of his brow to the short spikes of his crest. His eyes focused again on the figure hovering above him, his hand reaching to touch her. _Natra… my… Natra…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zakor - "god of life" among the Natranians  
> Zakiryn - "warrior of Zakor" and also a play on the combined terms of "Zakor" and "Kiryn" also the Asian unicorn


	5. Assault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are no longer yourself. You belong to him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Collection  
> Author: MuseofScrolls  
> Chapter: Five  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Sexual Situations, Non-consensual Sex/Implied Rape, Attempted Rape, Death  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Female Non-Human/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Predator or AVP franchise and earn no monetary funds for composing this work of fiction. However, all original characters found herein are my own and therefore should not be used in any other work of fiction without my express written permission.  
> Word Count: 5244

# Chapter 5: Assault

Walking behind Bha’ruk through the corridor, Da’ar had to raise a brow at the Natranian’s behavior in the elevator. In the research he had done on Natranians, no source said anything about the females being so aggressive outside of protective mothers--and that was a natural trait for most species. This female showed such physical defiance towards the elder. Though who could blame her with his stifling her movements?

Da’ar also wondered if she had understood his message despite the raspy cough. Learning a new language wasn’t the difficult part, it was actually using that language, especially one that grated on the throat. Coughing was one way to speak her language that didn’t hurt, but it might have been lost on her. Da’ar shook his head, knowing right now he needed to study the layout of the vessel and pay attention to Bha’ruk’s instructions.

“Here are your quarters,” Bha’ruk growled as a door opened on the right side of the corridor.

Stopping in front of the entrance, Da’ar bowed his head to the elder, stepping inside the sparse unit. It had only a bed and small weapons case. It was smaller than the sleeping quarters on his own ship, but then his ship was built for just himself, and a possible guest. He had to snort to himself about that since there had never been a guest on his cruiser. Da’ar had already heard most of the rumors. There was no point in fooling himself into thinking that any Yautja would readily accept or join him, thus he was satisfied living alone on the vessel.

“Thank you, Elder,” Da’ar clicked, keeping his eyes lowered before Bha’ruk, but he still felt the sharp eyes of the elder scrutinizing him. “Is there anything that you need of me now?”

“Go see the healer.” Bha’ruk curled his upper mandible in a sneer of disgust. “Who knows what you might have been around before coming here? After that, head to the sparring ring for drills.”

Nodding, Da’ar brought a fist over his chest and bowed deeply, moving back into the outer hall and towards the elevator. He stopped when Bha’ruk growled, “Remember what I said about any of my females who might be in the medical facility. Do not enter or speak with any of them.”

“Yes, Elder.” The black Yautja faced Bha’ruk and bowed once more, remaining in that position until after Bha’ruk had turned away and moved around the bend in the corridor. Da’ar’s gaze narrowed into a glare briefly before he inhaled and made his way to the elevators. _So he doesn’t want any other male getting near the females… I wonder what happens when one of the crew goes into a must._ He pushed that train of thought aside, thinking it would do no good at this point.

Striding to the elevator, he found the next lift was empty of occupants and he pressed in the code for the medical level. Da’ar tapped a claw against the metal wall, reminding himself that he shouldn’t discuss anything with Ta’al now. As it stood, he wasn’t even supposed to know the healer and should behave as such. He would discreetly remind Ta’al if needed, but it was doubtful the healer would speak to him in a familiar way.

A whiff of the Natranian’s scent came to him, and Da’ar recalled Bha’ruk’s “promise” to consummate their mating soon. Perhaps there would be a way to save her from the fate Bha’ruk had in store for her… but Da’ar’s plan right now would take time to put into motion including the approval of action by the High Council. Time that Natra likely did not have before Bha’ruk “claimed” her by force. Growling to himself at the mounting obstacles, the dark Yautja exhaled in a huff, irked that the elevator wasn’t moving faster.

Finally the doors slid open, and Da’ar began his trek down the hall towards where the medical facilities were. Turning the corner, he stopped short in time to miss barreling right into the blue-skinned healer. Da’ar stood up straight and raised a fist to his chest, showing respect to the healer as was custom in addressing one in this profession.

Ta’al blinked in surprise at seeing his ally right in front of him, but quickly remembered he didn’t know the Yautja yet. Raising a curious brow, he asked, “Who are you? What business do you have here?”

“I am Da’ar, a recent arrival to the ship,” Da’ar responded, meeting the silver gaze of the healer. “The Elder said I should see you… my guess is because of outside disease.”

“Indeed.” Ta’al clicked, mentally rolling his eyes that Bha’ruk would take such care in preventing impurities from contaminating the ship. “Come with me then, Da’ar, was it? I’m Ta’al, healer of the Ty’rath-di.”

Nodding to the healer, Da’ar followed Ta’al around the corridor to the medical facility, raising a brow when he saw two figures standing near the entrance. One of them was a female, the Cerpantian from what he recalled in Ta’al’s reports. Her green eyes met his briefly before darting back to the healer.

“Sitana? Is something wrong?” Ta’al asked the female as he and Da’ar approached.

Sitana shook her head, looking at the floor and hissing, “I am feeling a little sssore, Healer Ta’al… and hoped to ussse sssome of your sssalve, pleassse.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod, turning to face the black Yautja. “You’ll have to wait here until I’m finished with Sitana.”

Da’ar moved to the wall opposite the entrance to the facility, crossing his arms and taking a stance. His calm stare said he would wait, but that the healer would be wise not to take long. Glancing at the male standing with the Cerpantian, the dark Yautja watched him flinch and step to the far side of the door as the female and Ta’al walked inside.

“Sitana, where exactly are you sore?” Ta’al asked, going to the cabinet for his salves. He kept a ready stock of them simply because he didn’t know which female would need it and how much either. The amount usually depended on Bha’ruk’s mood… and sometimes even which female as he remembered with Rani a few days ago. Clenching a fist, Ta’al recalled how he had to staunch the vaginal bleeding the large Vulfrani female suffered at the elder’s most recent joining.

“Actually… it isss only my back and neck,” she hissed softly, placing her hands on the examination table separating them. “If you could apply sssome there, it would be great relief… pleassse, Ta’al.”

Nodding to her, the healer found the salve he was looking for and moved behind Sitana, spreading some of the salve on his hands. Ta’al rubbed his palms over her shoulders and neck, feeling the smooth scales warm under his touch. The tension in her muscles slowly eased under his gentle hands, and she sighed breathily, almost too soft for ears to pick up.

Hearing her, Ta’al stopped and moved back, clearing his throat and replacing the salve. “How is, uh, Rani feeling now?”

“She isss well… but hasss been in her room for the passst two daysss,” Sitana replied. The tendrils hanging about her head seemed to droop just as soon as the healer stopped his massage. “I should go and check on her… and Natra asss well… though she wasss here already, right?”

Ta’al busied himself to not think about the way Sitana’s sigh had stirred something inside him. He rearranged some of the salves, switching two vials, and then moved a third to the other end of the cabinet. The healer almost didn’t hear her answer. “Hmmm? Oh, yes, I released Natra back into O’ni’s care, and I believe she’s in her room.”

Sitana nodded, glancing around the room, yet somehow her gaze always moved towards the blue-skinned healer’s back. “I will go then… I didn’t mean to trouble you, Healer Ta’al.” Walking to the doors, she stopped when he closed the cabinet door and coughed.

“You don’t trouble me, Sitana, not when you need medical assistance,” he told her, slowly moving around the table. To see her looking so sad made Ta’al want to reach out to her, but he had to tread carefully as she was also one of his charges. His voice dropped to a whisper. “If you ever need my help… just ask. And be careful.”

Facing Ta’al, she gazed into his silver eyes before her mouth curved up in a small smile. The Cerpantian felt her chest warm at his last words. “I will be careful… Ta’al.”

The healer nodded, clearing his throat once more and opening the doors for Sitana. As she left the room, Ta’al felt something thin and soft brush against his ankle, and he looked up to watch the Cerpantian female stride down the corridor with her tail curling gently, her guard trailing after her. 

Swallowing thickly, he blinked and glanced at Da’ar still standing across from the doors. “Come in, Da’ar, we’ll get you situated here.”

“Indeed,” Da’ar clicked, briefly watching the female before he moved inside.

xXx

“So he hasn’t claimed Natra yet… but still, what he does to the other females, what he did when they didn’t obey him…” Ta’al stopped his explanation, clenching his fists and gritting his inner teeth. Inhaling slowly, he released the breath in a long huff then met Da’ar’s steady stare. “We must get them out of here, Da’ar… as soon as possible.”

Clicking a mandible, Da’ar closed his eyes before shaking his head. “It will take some time, Ta’al, more than just a day or two.”

“Why must we wait? By then it will be too late for Natra!” Ta’al snarled as he raised a fist then slowly lowered it when Da’ar’s fierce golden eyes flashed open.

“I have been given my orders, Ta’al, just as you have.” A low hiss came from the black Yautja as he continued to stare at the healer. “You think I don’t want to get them out immediately? After seeing the apprehensive state of Natra and even the Cerpantian, I would demand the Black Hunter himself assist us if I could. But we don’t have many options and unless you would prefer both of us to be labeled as ‘Bad Bloods’ to be hunted in turn for an ‘unjust’ murder, we must wait until the Council can sanction this kill.”

Ta’al inhaled a deep breath, remembering that while his status as a healer gave him some freedom, as an Exiled Da’ar was just above being a ‘Bad Blood.’ It was due to his following the orders of the Council that spared the black Yautja from being declared as a dishonorable Yautja and then hunted. Bowing his head to his ally, the only one who could possibly help in rescuing the females, Ta’al clicked, “My apologies, Da’ar. I’ve seen so much happen here… perhaps it’s finally getting to me.”

Placing a strong hand on the healer’s shoulder, Da’ar shook it in friendship. “We can’t have that, my friend, not when they need you. Stay focused and alert.”

“Yes…” Ta’al nodded firmly, shaking the black warrior’s shoulder in return. “What’s to be done now?”

“For now, just keep monitoring all six females as you normally would,” Da’ar clicked, looking around the facility.

The healer tapped a claw against the examination table, and then looked up suddenly. “Da’ar, watch out for Ji’ran, a warrior with a scar along the left side of his face. He’s had an… interest in Natra ever since he brought her here, and I would not trust him to obey Bha’ruk fully.”

“I remember he was the one who answered my message to the ship before I boarded… I’ll keep an eye on him.” The black Yautja moved to the sliding doors, leaving the medical facility and heading back towards the lifts.

Walking down the corridor Da’ar could understand why Ta’al felt as he did, wanting to take action now and save all of them. It was the High Council that didn’t seem to understand that time was of the essence in this situation, especially with how delayed their responses to his reports had become. It was a great act of patience as well as the words of the High Elder that made Da’ar stay within his orders. 

_This task should reward you with the lifting of your exile and the gift of your honor, Da’ar._ The High Elder himself had spoken directly to Da’ar about granting him the one thing that he craved most. No exiled Yautja could ever obtain honor, that was the law. His exile hadn’t been caused by his own doing but rather by his very existence, and he had been sent into exile as a youngblood. 

Clenching his fist, Da’ar still remembered the first time the High Elder had sent a message to him about the possibility of earning his honor. Hope had surged inside him only to have it dashed once the task to earn it was finished for the High Council would not agree to lift his exile. But it was this flicker of hope that came to him each time he received a message from the High Elder, and after taking on so many tasks he just couldn’t refuse. 

xXx

“Are you sssure there isss no remaining damage, Natra?” Sitana asked, looking at the Natranian with a concerned gaze.

“Sitana, I told you, my people have a healing element that allows us a fast recovery from injuries,” Lyra answered, patting the Cerpantian’s hand. “I’m fine now, but I’d be better off if we didn’t have to be around that monster.”

Sighing heavily, Sitana nodded. “I concur… but I would ssstill ressst if I were you. It might keep Bha’ruk at bay for a little longer.”

A shudder coursed through Lyra and she grimaced at the very idea of Bha’ruk trying to mate with her. Staring at Sitana, she couldn’t help feeling such pain for the Cerpantian and the others who had been subjected to forced mating. Lyra had sworn she wouldn’t allow him to mate with her… but after what he had already done, she wasn’t sure how long she could withstand that sort of power. Even with her skills, they were best used in distance fighting, and unfortunately this ship didn’t allow her that luxury.

“Well, if you feel up to it, why don’t you join usss in the lounge, Natra?” Sitana suggested, making Lyra blink and return her focus to the Cerpantian.

Nodding her head, Lyra smiled. “I might do that in a little bit. Tell Vanika not to worry too, please, Sitana?”

“You know she cannot help worrying, Natra... ssstill I will try,” Sitana said and rose from her seat at the foot of Lyra’s bed, heading outside the sliding door. Her guard followed the female, leaving O’ni in front of Lyra’s door, his hand tightly gripping his spear.

O’ni couldn’t get Ta’al’s words out of his mind, and he glared down one side of the corridor. _Guard her well, O’ni._ The warrior shook his head, rolling his wide shoulders in an unsuccessful attempt to relax. Something gnawed at him, almost to the point of distraction, but he couldn’t allow his post to be left unguarded. Bha’ruk had placed Natra within his care and O’ni would not let the elder down.

Turning his head, O’ni heard the door slide open as the female’s hooves softly clinked against the metal flooring. He faced her and nodded his head as she said, “O’ni, I think I’d like to go to the lounge.”

When he motioned her ahead of him, Lyra started down the corridor, hearing his heavy footfalls behind her. She knew being around the others would probably help her feel a little better, but she hoped Vanika wouldn’t fuss as she did with the other females.

Suddenly, Lyra froze in the hallway as a scent came to her nostrils, one she knew all too well. Looking up, she saw the kidnapper, Ji’ran, materialize just ahead in the corridor, and she stepped back, balling her hands into fists. Then, she felt a hand grip her shoulder, and she heard O’ni growl, “Natra, I’ll deal with him. Go now.”

Ji’ran’s eyes never left the Natranian even after she stepped behind O’ni, and the lieutenant’s chest expanded as his lungs filled with her scent. The male was too far within his must state for him to control his urges, and he moved forward, purring, “Natra…”

“Lieutenant, stay back,” O’ni growled lowly, raising his spear in a defensive stance. The guard nearly choked on the strong scent of musk Ji’ran gave off, but his duty was to protect Natra. Still, fighting a male who was in such a state would not be an easy task.

Ji’ran’s narrowed eyes shifted to O’ni, growling, “Meddlesome pest… do not order me.”

Watching the two males square off, Lyra remained still just several meters behind O’ni, not wanting to draw attention back to her. She knew if she ran now, it would trigger the baser predatory instinct to pursue. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind. _It is not in a female Natranian’s nature to fight as you and I do, Lyra. They lean more towards fleeing rather than fighting. But there are times when flight is not what should be done as it tugs on the nature of your pursuer. Sometimes the best thing to do is to wait…_

Ji’ran lunged towards O’ni, and the guard twisted his spear to the side, striking the lieutenant across the shoulder. Continuing the spear in a downward sweeping arc, O’ni brought the weapon against Ji’ran’s ankles, forcing the Yautja off his feet and onto his back. O’ni brought the spear tip under Ji’ran’s chin, glaring down at the lieutenant. “Don’t move or I will kill you, Lieutenant.”

Lyra released a long breath that she’d been holding until now as she saw O’ni had the situation under control. She swallowed thickly and watched the two carefully, still unsure about moving from her position.

“You take your task too seriously, O’ni,” Ji’ran clicked, staring up at the guard before glancing in Lyra’s direction. “You know… we could both have her.”

“Natra is the Elder’s female, and I have been ordered to protect her. You would be wise to leave her be,” O’ni snarled, curling his mandibles in disgust. “How did you even get on this level without the elder’s permission?”

Ji’ran narrowed his eyes, swiftly bringing up his hand and grasping just above the spear tip. “As if his own lieutenant couldn’t find out the code to his level. It was easy enough thanks to the arrival of the Exiled since our suspicious elder would obviously want to inspect the new cruiser in the hangar. All I had to do was cloak and wait.” 

Twisting his wrist, the lieutenant pulled the spear to the side, using the base and his legs to propel O’ni over him, slamming the warrior to the floor. The Yautja leapt to his feet, yanking the spear free of O’ni’s grasp and driving the weapon straight through the guard’s thigh, ripping an agonized roar from the guard’s mouth. Using extra force, Ji’ran forced the spear through the metal floor, pinning the guard’s leg there.

Gritting his teeth, O’ni glared up at Ji’ran as the lieutenant returned his attention to the one he desired while she stood staring at the scene with wide, shocked eyes. “Natra, run now!” O’ni bellowed despite the pain shooting through his leg. She bolted down the hallway, her long legs carrying her away swiftly even as Ji’ran started after her. 

Raising his wrist, O’ni called Ta’al, growling, “Healer, we have a problem… on the Elder’s level.”

“What is it, O’ni?” Ta’al’s voice came over the wrist communicator.

“Ji’ran’s in a must… and he managed to get up here without the Elder’s knowledge.”

“Pauk! Where’s Natra?”

“Running… some help would be good.” O’ni ended the conversation, glaring at Ji’ran dashing after the Natranian.

xXx

“Elder!” Ta’al’s voice clicked through Bha’ruk’s communicator as he was in the hangar overseeing the inspection of Da’ar's vessel, and the elder lifted his mandibles in annoyance as he raised his wrist.

“What is it, Healer?”

Bha’ruk heard the healer take a slow breath before he spoke. “Ji’ran is on your personal level, Elder. O’ni informed me that the lieutenant came for Natra… and is now in pursuit of her.”

The elder’s eyes widened before narrowing into a fierce glare, and his hands clenched so tightly the knuckles cracked horribly. Several warriors looked at him, stepping back when they saw the darkness in his eyes. His voice was a low growl as he demanded, “And where the pauk is O’ni now?”

“Incapacitated. He reported to me… before the connection was cut,” Ta’al answered hesitantly. “Elder?”

A roar burst from Bha’ruk’s throat as he threw his head back, smashing his fist and gauntlet against the wall behind him. Electricity crackled along the damaged gauntlet, but this did not deter the elder’s glare from fixing on the elevator as his pumping legs propelled him there just as a lift arrived. Gripping the necks of the two soldiers inside, Bha’ruk flung them outside with another roar as he stabbed in the key for his level.

xXx 

Air rushed in and out of her lungs as Lyra’s hooves pounded against the metal floor, trying to put as much distance between her and the pursuing Yautja. “Help! Someone, help me!” she shrieked, unsure that any of the others would hear her cries. Reaching the end of the corridor, her eyes widened in panic as she looked behind to see Ji’ran pounding closer to her.

Swallowing hard, Lyra balled her hands into fists, bringing her leg back and kicking out as soon as he was within range. Her hoof struck his jaw, almost forcing him off balance, but he regained his footing, turning his head to face her with a lust-hazed gaze. With wide eyes, she searched desperately for a weak point on his body, seeing only his limbs as the open areas of his form. _No good, no good… think, think, think!_

When Ji’ran reached out for her, Lyra screamed and brought her fist up, striking under his chin and forcing his head back with a grunt. She tried to maneuver around him, but Ji’ran recovered fast, snatching her arm and yanking her against him. 

“No, my Natra… won’t escape that easily,” he growled softly to her.

“Let go of me, kidnapper!” she shrieked, twisting and squirming to free herself in vain.

Ji’ran chuckled darkly as he moved the Natranian against the closed end of the corridor, keeping his body between her and the hall opening. Wrapping a powerful arm around her torso and arms, he leaned close to her bare neck, flaring his mandibles and groaning as he scented her. “Still new… your scent’s as I remember…” His tongue snaked out of his mouth, licking along her neck and up to her pointed ear, and she flinched away in disgust.

With his free hand, Ji’ran reached down to grab the edge of her skirt, tearing the cloth that hid her nether regions. She screamed and pushed against him, trying to break free, but he tightened his hold on her, his mandibles nipping down her soft neck. This failed to calm her, but he was beyond caring about her comforts as his free hand cupped along her bare sex despite her legs clamping together.

Lyra’s eyes flared wide when she felt his hand touch her, shoving against him even more and kicking out with her legs. Shrieking, she struggled within his grasp even more when his fingers pushed through her thighs and prodded against her nether lips. “No! Stop it, stop it, stop!”

Almost instantly, his fingers halted in their search for her opening and he stopped biting her neck. Lyra panted heavily as her heart hammered against her chest. Had she gotten through? Had she made him stop? She shook her head, doubting that was the case, and she looked over her shoulder to see a sight that made her eyes widen.

A powerful, black arm was hooked around Ji’ran’s neck, and Lyra could see the cold amber stare of the black Yautja as he held her attacker. _How did he… get here so fast? When did he arrive?_ Thoughts spun through her mind as Lyra swallowed slowly, not wanting to do anything to urge Ji’ran to continue.

“Release her now,” Da’ar growled low in his chest as his arm tightened around Ji’ran’s neck, choking him enough to make the lieutenant gag before relaxing his arm. The black Yautja looked at the Natranian, meeting her dark eyes briefly before returning his stare to Ji’ran. Paya had favored him, as he had arrived before she was greatly harmed, and it was fortunate that Ta’al had contacted Da’ar while he was inside the lift. Still, Da’ar needed to get Ji’ran away from her, and with the tough hold the must-driven Yautja had on her, it would prove no easy task. “Ji’ran… if you value your life, let her go now.”

“No… she is mine…” Ji’ran growled as his arm around the female stiffened, his tongue lapping against her neck once more as she cringed.

“You fool!” Da’ar snarled, yanking Ji’ran’s neck and head back. “I’m sure Elder Bha’ruk is on his way… you know what he will do to you for this! Release her now and he might allow you to keep your life.”

“Don’t… care…” Ji’ran rasped through his constricted throat, but despite straining to keep hold of her, he began to grow dizzy. The arm around her torso was slowly slackening as Ji’ran struggled to remain conscious. Finally, he released the female and she shifted away from him, glaring at Ji’ran and keeping her back against the wall. He dropped to his knees on the floor when Da’ar let him go and moved to stand in front of the female.

Da’ar shook his head, glancing over his shoulder at the Natranian, asking, “Are you alright?”

“Yes… thank you,” she said hesitantly, looking at his broad back as he stayed between her and Ji’ran. Lyra clenched her flat teeth, inhaling deep breaths through her nose in order to slow her breathing. “How is O’ni? Did you see him?”

“My order was to help you, but when I did pass him in the hallway, he waved me off telling me to get to you.” Da’ar’s mandibles quirked in a sort of smile as he thought about the warrior pinned to the floor growling that the Natranian needed more help than him. “The healer was on his way up as well, so your guard should receive assistance soon.”

Suddenly a roar thundered within the corridor walls, making Lyra stiffen and step further behind the black Yautja. She swallowed carefully as her heart sped up once more, beating wildly within her chest. There was something… horrid in the air. She could almost feel it starting to thicken around her as she tried to slow her breathing.

_This won’t end well,_ Da’ar thought, raising a brow as he heard Bha’ruk’s enraged roar from the far end of the hallway. Looking down at Ji’ran as the lieutenant still eyed the Natranian, Da’ar growled and moved his bulky body to block all view of her from the Yautja on the floor. He glanced briefly at the female behind him as her breathing quickened slightly. It was odd since she had just been somewhat calmer only moments before.

Hearing footsteps pounding closer, Da’ar returned his attention to the approaching elder as Bha’ruk rounded the corner, his mandibles splayed in fury. He was upon Ji’ran before the lieutenant could even turn around to face the larger Yautja. Grabbing and hefting him up by the neck, Bha’ruk roared into Ji’ran’s face, eyes aflame. “You worthless piece of c’jit! You dare to touch one of _my_ females?!”

Gasping for breath, Ji’ran could barely look at the elder holding him up by the neck, but he managed to grit his teeth and glare into the fiery stare, hissing, “I… caught… her…”

“Pauk’de c’jit,” Bha’ruk growled deep in his chest as he swung Ji’ran around, slamming him against the wall and watching him collapse to the floor. Bringing back his foot, the elder swung his leg up, striking across Ji’ran’s jaw, snapping his head to the side. He reached down and grabbed a cluster of Ji’ran’s locks, hefting him high and smashing his fist against the lieutenant’s face, breaking two mandibles.

Da’ar watched the scene quietly, not wanting to leave the Natranian unguarded, but something else drew his focus away from the beating Ji’ran was receiving. Wheezing sounds made him turn his head to look at the female as her eyes were so large, he could see the whites around the violet circles. He frowned and faced her fully, wracking his mind to recall what could cause this sort of behavior in a Natranian. Then, he stopped. _Bloodlust… death… they can sense it,_ he thought, looking back at Bha’ruk striking Ji’ran. _If they witness it… if they are around violent death…_

“Elder, you must stop!” Da’ar growled, moving towards the two males. “Please, Elder, don’t do this!”

Without even taking his attention off Ji’ran, Bha’ruk snarled, “You dare to say I have no claim to this… maggot’s life?! He has touched what is mine, so his life is mine to take!”

“That’s not what I meant, Elder!” The black Yautja looked from Bha’ruk to Ji’ran’s bloodied face and then to the female, watching her fall to her knees. “Do not kill him in front of _her_!”

The words fell upon deaf ears as Bha’ruk’s fist landed across Ji’ran’s jaw, snapping the bones with a horrible crack. Bringing his hand back, taloned fingers outstretched, the elder’s sharp claws raked across Ji’ran’s limbs and chest, drawing more lines of green blood.

Returning his attention back to the Natranian, Da’ar placed himself directly in her line of vision, blocking the sight with his bulk. He clamped his hands against her ears to stifle the sounds, praying that he could prevent her from witnessing what her people were never meant to experience. But as he looked at her eyes, still almost frighteningly wide, Da’ar wondered if it was too late. When the warrior saw her blink, he thought she was somehow pulling herself back and away from the gruesome act behind him.

“Now, traitor… die,” Bha’ruk growled as he gripped Ji’ran’s locks, bracing his free arm at his side. His claws dove into the lieutenant’s neck, ripping apart flesh as green blood gushed down his chest, Ji’ran gurgling for air. Releasing his hold, Bha’ruk watched his former lieutenant drop limply against the floor, Ji’ran’s mandibles falling open as his chest spasmed once before he grew still.

Da’ar released a relieved sigh as he heard the death throes cease, then looked at the female and stiffened. Her eyes were still just as wide as before but her nostrils were flared, and he cursed inside as the stench of death reached his olfactory system. Slowly removing his hands from her ears, Da’ar waited tensely for whatever might happen.

A strangled gasp flew from her mouth, and Lyra’s eyes glazed over as she crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **"Must"** \- When a male Yautja enters a more primal state of mind which is keen on just mating, giving off a strong musky scent to both attract a female Yautja and also ward off other males.  
>  **Black Hunter** \- Cetanu, the Yautja god of death; Da'ar is often compared to him, being called "living Cetanu"
> 
> **Yautja Caste System** (my own version to give an idea of where Da'ar's position lies on the scale):  
>  _High Elder_ \- overseer of a Council of Elders  
>  _High Arbitrator_ \- overseer of a Council of Arbitrators, sometimes this position is on equal level with the High Elder if the HE's state of mind is called into question  
>  _Elder_ \- leader of a clan  
>  _Arbitrator_ \- lawkeepers among the clans, they have a similar dynamic to the High Elder/High Arbitrator when needed  
>  _Huntmaster_ \- usually a veteran warrior/hunter who instructs Youngbloods prior to becoming Warriors or Hunters  
>  _Warrior_ \- one who fights to defend the honor of the clan  
>  _Hunter_ \- one who hunts and seeks honor for the clan  
>  _Youngblood_ \- an unblooded adolescent Yautja, usually the equivalent of a teenager  
>  _Exiled_ \- a Yautja who is cast out of the clan because they cannot live peacefully among any clan  
>  _Bad Blood_ \- a dishonorable Yautja who has been declared a criminal, typically a murderer, and thus hunted by Arbitrators


	6. Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are no longer yourself. You belong to him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Collection  
> Author: MuseofScrolls  
> Chapter: Six  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Sexual Situations, Non-consensual Sex/Implied Rape, Attempted Rape, Death  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Female Non-Human/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Predator or AVP franchise and earn no monetary funds for composing this work of fiction. However, all original characters found herein are my own and therefore should not be used in any other work of fiction without my express written permission.  
> Word Count: 
> 
> Special Note: I am slowly working on editing this work as there are places that I believe could use more detail and fleshing out. For those who have read "Collection" before, there are some changes that will explain some motives of certain characters that I feel were likely missing in the first draft. Please enjoy this version as you did the earlier version. Thank you.

# Chapter 6: Weakness

Da’ar watched the Natranian female collapse to the floor, and he moved swiftly to kneel down next to her, placing two fingers against her throat. A faint pulse beat against his fingers, and he looked up at Bha’ruk as the elder snarled at Ji’ran’s lifeless body.

“Elder, something needs to be done,” Da’ar clicked, removing his fingers from her.

Grunting, Bha’ruk turned his glare onto Da’ar and then to Natra as she lay sprawled on the floor, appearing almost dead. His eyes grew wide then, and he looked down at her torn skirt, revealing her bare nether regions. Bending down, Bha’ruk leaned his head close enough to scent the female, and despite seeing her lying in such a manner, a low purr rumbled from his chest upon finding her scent unchanged. _Mine… she is still mine, Ji’ran, you worthless maggot._

“Elder, what are your orders?” Da’ar did his best not to growl at the fool of an elder, gritting his inner teeth with his mandibles closed around them.

“She still lives,” Bha’ruk clicked, looking at the black Yautja.

Inspecting the Natranian, Da’ar saw her eyes had closed, so she still had enough life left in her for a little movement. “Barely, but who knows for how much longer?”

“Ta’al! Where the pauk are you?!” The elder roared down the corridor, punching the floor at the same time and leaving a small indent. His focus, which had been trained solely on Ji’ran, was slowly widening.

Almost as if on command, Ta’al came barreling down the hallway, his hands balled into fists. He couldn’t believe the mess that O’ni’s leg had been in once he got to the warrior, but he was able to patch up the injury. O’ni seemed more concerned about Lyra’s state, growling for the healer to go and help her first. But Ta’al knew he needed to make sure the wound was at least staunched and O’ni was on his feet before moving further down the corridor.

Seeing four figures on the floor, two lying and two kneeling, Ta’al shook his head, speeding up his pounding footsteps. _Bad, a very bad sign,_ he thought, spying Lyra lying between Da’ar and Bha’ruk.

Narrowing his eyes at the elder, Ta’al clenched his fists as the image of striking the tyrant flitted through his mind. He inhaled a long breath before releasing his hands. _Calm yourself, Ta’al, you are a healer first and a warrior second. Do what you were trained to do… despite the cause._

“What’s going on? Is Natra hurt?” the healer asked, skidding to a stop and kneeling down at the Natranian’s side. He blinked, never having seen her look so pale, such a sickly color unlike the usual brightness of her white skin. Automatically, he placed two fingers against her neck just as Da’ar had, feeling the whisper of a pulse while looking at both males. “What happened?”

Growling deeply, Bha’ruk glared at the healer before returning his stare to Natra’s unmoving body. “I protected what is mine, delivering punishment to the traitor who tried to steal from me.”

“The elder… fought and killed the lieutenant in front of her, Healer,” Da’ar explained, glancing at Bha’ruk for any sign that he should stop. Receiving no response, he continued. “After that happened, she just collapsed into her current state.”

Tilting his head to inspect Lyra, Ta’al’s brow scrunched in confusion. “There doesn’t seem to be any mark or wound upon her…” Seeing her slight nudity, Ta’al grasped and pulled her skirt around to cover past her hips, the tear in her skirt now revealing her right thigh.

“No… but I had heard things about Natranians,” Da’ar said, looking at her in deep thought. “Bloodlust seems to have a negative effect upon them, and a violent death… even more so.”

“So you believe that because she witnessed the killing… she went into a state of shock out of trauma?”

Da’ar nodded, then looked at Bha’ruk as the elder’s gaze remained on the Natranian. The black Yautja knew he had to get Bha’ruk to focus on the task at hand or the female would die. “What are your orders, Elder?”

“Hnnn,” Bha’ruk lifted his head, staring at Da’ar before facing Ta’al and squaring his shoulders. “Healer, it is your task to take care of the well-being of my females. Do whatever you have to do and save Natra. Now.”

Watching Lyra, Ta’al took in all of what Da’ar had told him about the Natranians, knowing that it was likely truth rather than overheard rumors. It had to be as Da’ar knew too much to simply state something on a whim. Still, Ta’al wasn’t sure how he could revive Lyra, and he glanced from Bha’ruk to Da’ar and back, finally looking at Ji’ran’s body behind Bha’ruk. “This entire corridor reeks of death. We should move her somewhere else.”

“Do it,” Bha’ruk growled, rising to his full stature before the two males. With his adrenaline gone, his head was slowly clearing after killing the traitor, and he finally really looked at Da’ar. “Why were you here, Da’ar?”

“I informed him of the situation, Elder, and gave him the access code to your level,” Ta’al intervened, carefully gathering Lyra’s limp form into his arms. “Since you were down in the hangar, I thought it best to order the closest warrior to the scene and get help here sooner. As you can see, this warrior managed to stop the situation before it could escalate further and allow Ji’ran to… force himself on Natra.”

Nodding, Bha’ruk saw the logic in Ta’al’s words, and despite being new to the ship, Da’ar was willing to follow orders. And unlike O’ni, Da’ar had managed to hold off a must-driven warrior. That in and of itself impressed the elder… enough for him to come to a decision. “Da’ar, I place Natra in your care while her guard is… incapacitated. I trust you know what will happen if you so much as look at her incorrectly.”

Da’ar’s stare moved to look at Ji’ran’s broken and bloody body lying behind Bha’ruk. Then, the black Yautja brought his fist to his chest, bowing to the elder. “Yes, Elder, I will ensure her safety until her guard has recovered.”

“See that you do,” Bha’ruk growled, moving down the corridor before stopping and looking back at the healer. “Remember my order, Ta’al. Do whatever it takes to save her.”

“Yes, Elder,” Ta’al nodded, still holding Lyra’s body securely against his as Bha’ruk strode away. With a sigh, he glanced at Da’ar, quietly asking, “What should we do? You know more about her race than I do.”

Looking up at the healer, Da’ar rose to his full height and then turned to examine Ji’ran’s body. “What is the opposite of death? We need to surround her with that in order to cleanse her olfactory system.”

“‘Life?’ How could we surround her… wait.” Ta’al blinked then strode down the hall with Da’ar nodding and following behind him.

“I take it the elder does have an arbor?”

Ta’al nodded, making his way to the elevator and stopping to gently hand Lyra over to Da’ar. Pressing in the key code, he moved to take her back but stopped. Lyra appeared so much weaker than what he was used to seeing, and Ta’al frowned deeply, clenching his fists and mumbling, “That fool, why did he have to do this?”

“Which one do you mean, Healer?” Da’ar murmured, knowing that there had been two referred to by that term. “The fool or the fool that chose to betray him?”

“Both!” the healer hissed, stomping into the lift as the doors slid open. Ta’al spun around to face the open doors while Da’ar stepped inside, standing next to him, and the doors slid shut as the lift slowly rose. “This is precisely what I’m talking about, Da’ar. He thinks of nothing but himself, and who suffers for it? These innocent females suffer for it, that’s who!”

Eying Ta’al carefully, Da’ar inhaled slowly as he held the Natranian in his arms. “You have been through much with them, haven’t you?”

“I am the one they trust… yet I can do nothing to free them,” Ta’al growled, facing away from the black Yautja and the Natranian. “Do you realize how… weak I feel because of that? Me, a warrior healer who feels pathetic.”

Da’ar waited in silence as the healer snarled out what he had kept bottled up for as long as this mission had been in play. Two years was a lot to ask of any warrior, let alone one who made his trade in healing. But Da’ar knew those two years were not given in vain because he knew these females trusted Ta’al despite the helplessness the healer felt about the situation. That sort of trust was not built over a short time, and without seeing more than just the Cerpantian’s interactions with Ta’al, Da’ar saw their strong faith in the healer.

“Are you going to say nothing?” Ta’al hissed, turning to glare at the black Yautja. He knew his anger was directed at the wrong person, but the frustration had become too much and was crashing through his mouth in a flood.

“That depends, Ta’al. Are you finished?”

The healer gave a curt nod.

“First of all, I have not fully expressed the gratitude that you deserve for all that you have done,” Da’ar stated in a hushed tone, looking directly into Ta’al’s silver eyes. “You’ve done more than just report all that has happened on the Ty’rath-di to me. I know these females trust you with their lives… even more so than Bha’ruk trusts you. So I will be the first to say that you are anything but pathetic and weak to have endured through this entire ordeal alone for the duration of time you have.”

Ta’al stared at Da’ar in silence, stunned by the words his ally had spoken, and it seemed so unlike the one known as “living Cetanu.” In all the years that Ta’al had known him, Da’ar had usually been a Yautja of few words, and whether that was due to the cold-shouldered response he usually received on clan ships or to something else, the healer didn’t know. Perhaps it was just a side that he chose to show as little as possible for Ta’al knew only he and one other believed that Da’ar was not completely like the epitome of death, the Black Hunter. “Th… thank you, Da’ar.”

The dark warrior nodded his head, moving his stare to the illuminating elevator levels as they approached their destination.

The lift slowed down to a stop and the doors opened to a large, lush room that filled the entire level from the elevator to the opposite wall. Trees stretched their branches towards the light source at the rounded dome-like ceiling, and lush grasses and plants surrounded the large trunks. The only bare part was a single path that wound in and around among all of the vegetation, used by the cooks in order to retrieve ingredients for meals.

“Where should we take her?” Ta’al asked, looking around the large arbor.

Da’ar quickly scanned the vegetation, spying an area he believed would be good and making his way towards the spot. He edged down to his knees, gently placing the female on a soft bed of grass beneath a sturdy tree with a large vine circling around the trunk. Blue blossoms covered the vine, giving off a strong sweet scent, and all around the grass grew white flowers with five distinct petals stretching out. “These are suckle-vines and stars-of-una, two plants from Unatra with the most potent scents. Surprisingly, Bha’ruk did enough research on Unatra to gather some of the plants from her planet.”

“You think they will work?” Ta’al asked, sitting down beside Lyra.

Da’ar sighed deeply, cocking his head to the side as he looked at the female. “If they don’t… I’m not sure what will. I was able to block the sight and most of the sound of Ji’ran’s killing from her, but… I didn’t think about the smell of death.”

“Still, I think you helped her since she’s alive.” The healer looked at the surrounding blossoms, reaching over to gently push stars-of-una closer to Lyra’s face. “That might help a little more.”

Nodding, Da’ar stood and gingerly unwound part of the suckle-vine from around the trunk with large clusters of flowers, laying the vine across her chest with the blossoms facing her. He sat next to her on the side opposite Ta’al, watching her face for any sign of improvement.

Waiting was a key point in a Yautja’s training and not solely in hunting. In the case of healers, sometimes one had to wait for a warrior’s wound to knit and mend properly or for a poison to run its course through the body. It was a trait that Da’ar had learned long ago, and he maintained constant training each time he received a message from a familiar clan ship. All he could ever do was wait. Wait to see if the High Council would lift his exile, wait to see if his father could accept him back as his son. It was too late for his disowning mother to accept him, and Da’ar didn’t delude himself into thinking she ever would have had she still lived.

Da’ar shook his head, pushing memories of the past that tried to resurface to the far recesses of his mind. There was no time to dwell on what could have been or even what he had hoped would happen each time he was summoned by the Council. Right now, focus needed to be on helping the females, particularly the one lying before him. _May Paya help you now…_

xXx  


A cold blackness blanketed Lyra’s mind as she huddled against the hard earth beneath her. Gone were the rich green meadows and the calm white clouds that were normally present within the dream realm. Nothing was familiar as everything was bare, dry earth tightly packed beneath her quivering form, and she could hardly breathe in this place.

“Someone… my lord, please… help… help me…” she whispered through trembling lips.

Through the darkness, Lyra felt a strong hand gently stroke her hair, and she squinted her eyes open, seeing only the outline of the one who touched her. “My child, I am sorry you had to see this place,” the calm voice of Zakor came to her ears.

“Where… where am I?” she asked, vainly blinking to try and adjust her eyes.

“A place my people are never supposed to experience,” he replied, slipping his arm beneath her side and lifting Lyra’s torso up. “This is the Wasteland, the result of bloodlust and… killing. All of you are a people of life, and because of that I have not prepared you for such an occurrence as a violent death.”

Lyra leaned against Zakor’s arm, still unable to see much in this place yet at the same time glad that she couldn’t. From what her lord said, this was no place to remain… but would she have to? “My lord… am I… dying?”

“You were close to death, Zakiryn Lyra, but the actions of one saved you,” Zakor stated softly, his breath warm against her face as he spoke. “I am sorry you have had to suffer like this… but the old tree must face the fire in order to bring forth new saplings.”

“How? I… I can’t go… through something… like that again,” she stumbled over her words, fear creeping into her voice as she huddled against Zakor. “I can’t…”

His hand gently cupped around Lyra’s chin, lifting her face to look up into eyes that shone brilliant gold in the darkness. “Remember who you are, Lyra. Be strong as you have always been taught as a Zakiryn.”

Slowly, Lyra nodded and closed her eyes, feeling Zakor’s arm fade beneath her though she didn’t fall back to the ground. Her body felt light almost as though the wind was lifting her up, and when she opened her eyes, she saw white clouds just beyond the dark thundering billows. She also caught the wonderful and welcoming scent of suckle-vines and stars-of-una. “Thank you, my lord.”

Suddenly, the form of the black Yautja appeared before her as Lyra remembered feeling him place his hands against her ears. He had positioned his body in front of her eyes, too… all to shield her from what was happening. She heard Zakor’s voice like the roll of distant thunder, and he rumbled, _Trust in him, my child._

xXx  


Ta’al stood up with a heavy sigh, clicking, “I should go and check on O’ni. I told him to get to the medical level just before I left him, and I need to make sure his leg is properly treated and bandaged.”

Da’ar nodded, glancing up at the healer before returning his eyes to the female on the grass. Her pulse had become slightly stronger and she was breathing more evenly, which both Yautja took as a good sign of her recovery. Still, they didn’t want to move her until after she had regained consciousness. “I will contact you if she wakes before you return, Healer.”

“Thank you,” Ta’al clicked, heading back towards the elevator and leaving Da’ar alone with the Natranian.

The black Yautja moved to his knees, preparing to rise quickly if the need came. However, knowing that only cooks came to this level, it was doubtful he had much to be concerned about. His training was instinctive enough to make sure he would be able to protect the female, and Da’ar would ensure that no more harm befell her this day. Amber eyes remained on the sliding doors, flicking to look at the Natranian for a moment before returning to the entrance.

A small sound came from the female along with a deep inhalation of air, and Da’ar faced her fully as he saw her eyelids quivering as though trying to open. Her eyes opened slowly, and the black Yautja found himself staring into dark eyes that gazed at him tiredly yet calmly at the same time. Da’ar cocked his head to the side curiously, wondering why his presence would calm her… unless she remembered who had helped her against Ji’ran.

“Wh… where…?” Lyra rasped, coughing a little as her throat was dry.

Da’ar looked around the arbor, spotting one of the built-in springs that fed the various trees in this section and clicking, “Wait here.”

He stood and strode over to the spring, cupping a handful of water into his palm and slowly making his way back to her side, careful to not spill the water. Holding out his palm, Da’ar asked, “Can you move your arms?”

Nodding, Lyra raised both her hands up, gently cupping them together as he carefully transferred the water into her hands. She lifted her head up and placed her lips to her hands, taking slow sips and fighting her urge to gulp the water that refreshed not only her throat but her mind. Seeing the Wasteland bare of anything living had drained her, and having water so near at hand now was such a relief. As she lowered her hands, Lyra looked up at the black Yautja, asking, “Where are we?”

“The ship’s arbor,” he replied, keeping his voice quiet so as not to cause her any alarm. “The healer has gone to the medical facility, but he’ll return soon.”

“Ta’al was here?” she asked, scenting the area and wincing as the sharp tang of lingering death hit her. Blinking, Lyra tilted her head and finally noticed the suckle-vine lying on her chest and the stars-of-una pressed up against her. She slowly took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scents of the flowers, practically savoring them and caught Ta’al’s scent among them as well as the black Yautja’s scent from the suckle-vine. “He pushed… the stars-of-una near me. That means you…”

Da’ar nodded as he looked at the suckle-vine circling her shoulders, the blooming blue flowers giving off their sweet smell. “The suckle-vines have the strongest scent of Unatra’s flora.”

“How… how did you know?” Lyra tried to sit up, but he placed his free hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. “Who are you?”

“I am called ‘Da’ar,’ and I’ve been placed as your guard in lieu of your original guard’s absence,” he answered, nodding towards the water that remained in her hands, and she drank a little bit more. His eyes flicked to the doors before meeting hers once more. “To answer your former question, I have studied the flora and fauna of many different planets, Unatra being one of them.”

“You’ve been to Unatra before?” Blinking at him, Lyra was surprised that this Yautja, Da’ar, had visited her home planet, one that was often overlooked by many other races. It seemed odd that he would only be studying the plants and creatures from Unatra. Then, she stopped and remembered him blocking her eyes and ears from the act of death before her. “But… you knew. You knew what was happening to me.”

Da’ar raised a brow at her statement, still keeping his eyes locked with hers as she seemed to prod him for answers. Answers he could give… but should he? She gazed at him expectantly, and he inhaled, slowly releasing the breath.

While she awaited his response, Da’ar leaned closer to her and whispered, “I have made it a point to visit and study the planets of Unatra, Cerpantia, Ahrak, Vulfran, Nimo, and Avari, particularly information about their inhabitants. I felt these were… the most important to learn about.”

As he spoke to her, Lyra’s eyes grew wider and she felt even more certain that he had said ‘Help you’ in her language when she first saw him. _He is here to help us… by Zakor’s horns… but why hasn’t something been done already? There must be some reason why he hasn’t…_

Then, she remembered Ta’al’s words, frowning as she thought, _Everything and everyone on this ship is that monster’s… which means all of them obey him._ Closing her eyes tight, Lyra’s head fell back heavily against the grass, squeezing back the tears gathering in her eyes.

“Are you alright?” Da’ar asked, sitting up a little more, concerned when she suddenly fell back on the ground.

“I’m sorry… my head hurts… that’s all,” she told him, not opening her eyes as she reached up a hand to rub her forehead. Lyra stopped and opened her eyes, facing Da’ar as he looked at her with a steady gaze. “Forgive me… I’ve been rude in not telling you my name, Da’ar. I’m…”

“‘Natra,’ yes?”

“That’s not my real name.”

“I had gathered.” He shook his head slightly, thinking, _Only that fool of an elder would bestow such a patronizing name on her._

Lyra blinked at him almost in surprise, then a small smile appeared on her lips. His tone seemed to say what she thought about the name as well, namely a poor and uninspired choice. Slowly, she moved the vine behind her and sat up, not stopping even after he placed his dry hand on her shoulder to prevent her from rising further, and she leaned closer to Da’ar, saying barely above a whisper, “Lyra… that is my name.”

The black Yautja stared at her, his eyes never leaving hers as she gazed at him with such a calm, trusting expression. Da’ar wondered if she would still feel that same calm around him had he not saved her from Ji’ran. However, what was done was done and events had led to him being able to speak somewhat freely with her. Looking away, Da’ar said, “I have to notify Ta’al of your change in condition… Lyra.”

Instantly, the doors slid open and Da’ar whirled around, his hand on the hilt of one blade strapped to his thigh ready to remove it. He saw Ta’al’s blue form enter the arbor and relaxed, removing his hand from the blade. Turning to check on Lyra, he was surprised to see her hand clenched around a nearby dead limb as she stared intently in the direction he had been looking, ready to strike with the makeshift weapon. Again, she showed behavior that was unlike other female Natranians who would sooner run than fight an opponent, and it puzzled Da’ar, though he only shook his head at her. “It is the healer.”

“I see…” Lyra said as she relaxed, releasing the limb from her grasp and lying back along the grass. When she saw Da’ar raise a brow at her, she smiled. “Knowing Ta’al, he would advise I remain lying down now.”

“As you should be after what happened to you, Natra,” Ta’al growled in slight annoyance at seeing her lie back quickly when she should have remained stationary. Then, he turned his stare on Da’ar, saying, “I thought you were going to notify me when her condition changed.”

Before Da’ar could respond, Lyra spoke up in his defense. “It was my fault, Ta’al. I was thirsty after waking… and Da’ar brought me some water. Please, don’t be cross with him.”

Ta’al raised a surprised brow at her words, glancing at Da’ar who merely met his eyes with a calm stare. Shaking his head, the healer knelt next to Lyra, placing a hand along her neck to check her pulse, asking, “How are you feeling, Natra?”

“I feel fine now… still a little weak but I think I can stand if that’s alright,” she replied, watching the healer’s face for any sign of disapproval to this idea.

“Well, I’m not sure if you want to walk back to the medical level on your own, but if you feel you can rise by yourself, do so.” Ta’al nodded to her, standing back to allow her some space without being out of range in case she needed assistance.

Slowly, Lyra sat up once more, and she watched Da’ar stand up next to her, his eyes flicking between her and the doors. Placing her hands to either side of her hips, she pushed herself up to a crouched position, then carefully rose to a stand. Her legs felt odd, almost as if they weren’t really her legs, and both started quivering beneath her before buckling. Falling forward, she cried out and grunted as Da’ar’s arm caught her around the middle, and she looked up at him gratefully. “I guess I can’t stand yet…”

“I thought this might happen, but you felt the need to try, Natra,” the healer said, shaking his head and tapping a claw against his mandibles. “We’ll have to carry you otherwise it will take awhile to get you to the medical level.”

Sighing heavily, Lyra nodded and then gasped in surprise as Da’ar lifted her into his arms. She stared at him for a moment, but he merely moved towards the doors with Ta’al striding just behind them. The two Yautja were silent as they left the arbor, and Lyra still felt weary from her ordeal as her eyelids started growing heavy. Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek on Da’ar’s shoulder as her fatigue gave over to sleep.

As he walked next to Da’ar, Ta’al saw Lyra’s sleeping face lying against the warrior’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, shaking his head, saying, “This might be one of the only times she will sleep peacefully.”

Da’ar glanced at the healer then looked at her face as she slept so easily now, but he turned away as images of Bha’ruk ripping into Ji’ran came to his mind. _If that is what he does to a traitor when enraged, I don’t want to think about what he might do to her._ Even as he thought this, he looked at Ta’al, recalling several messages in which the healer had to work fast to help staunch the wounds on one of the other females. _May Paya watch over you, Lyra… at least when I cannot._


	7. Claiming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are no longer yourself. You belong to him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Collection  
> Author: MuseofScrolls  
> Chapter: Seven  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Sexual Situations, Non-consensual Sex/Implied Rape, Attempted Rape, Death  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Female Non-Human/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Predator or AVP franchise and earn no monetary funds for composing this work of fiction. However, all original characters found herein are my own and therefore should not be used in any other work of fiction without my express written permission.

# Chapter 7: Claiming

“You sent for me, Elder?” Vanika stood before Bha’ruk, inside his chambers, while her guard remained outside the closed doors.

The elder gazed over her form, eyes moving along her fine dark-haired arms before settling on the long, wispy red hair that poured over her shoulders. She wore a short crimson cloth that just barely covered her sex and a matching top that wrapped around her breasts, leaving plenty of her torso and legs bare for his eyes. Raising an arm, he beckoned her closer. “Come here, Vanika.”

Bha’ruk’s mandibles rose in approval as she slowly walked towards him, having trained her well enough for her to know what he expected. Unlike the other females, he had caught Vanika himself on Ahrak, taking his time in selecting the finest female of her village. She managed to elude him for a time, but he captured her in the end.

Gazing at her now through hooded eyes, Bha’ruk lifted his hand to lightly finger her red hair that felt like soft webbing. He leaned close to her face, mandibles spreading slightly to brush along her cheeks, and he rumbled when Vanika didn’t even bat an eye at the intimate touch. The spikes of his mandibles curved inward along her face, coaxing her closer, and Vanika followed, leaning in to brush her lips against Bha’ruk’s inner mouth.

“You know what I want, my Vanika,” he growled huskily as she leaned back. His gaze was dark with desire, and he watched the Ahrakan nod, wrapping her top set of arms around his waist.

Vanika’s lower pair of hands disappeared beneath his cloth, one cupping around his swelling sac while the other gripped his thick length. Slowly, her hand stroked down to the bulbous head of him before moving back up to the base where her other hand squeezed his sac. Behind his back, her upper limbs softly circled over his lower back before moving even lower to cup and grope his buttocks. She had done this before many times for him, yet it still made her cringe inside, feeling so dirty.

Recalling her past, Vanika almost couldn't accept that she was once the high priestess of her people, a position granted only to those considered most worthy. There was no worth or respect in what she did now, not after the day that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

As a high priestess of her village’s deity, Latro Dektus, Vanika spent most of her days giving council to those who requested her advice as well as offering physical help where it was needed, rebuilding a home or aiding weavers. Her mate had been assigned as her personal watcher and would assist her with some of the more laborious tasks, and she had grown to love him. The day Bha’ruk captured her, Vanika had helplessly watched him slaughter her mate, and it weighed heavily in her heart.

She had wondered many times if she could have done something more to prevent the death of her beloved, but now it was too late as she belonged to the Yautja elder. Thinking on all that she had done and what she did now, Vanika shut her eyes in shame at the idea of meeting her mate in the Veiled Wood of Latro Dektus once she met her own death. _How can I ever face you again, my love...’_

When she felt Bha’ruk’s hand caress her face and move to the back of her head, Vanika knelt to the floor, her lower hands moving his cloth. His erection was swollen and hard as some of the juices inside dripped along the head.

Slowly, Vanika opened her mouth, sliding her tongue over the darkened head of his length, lapping at the fluids that coated him. He tasted so foul to her, yet she continued licking along the thick shaft belonging to her captor, knowing what might happen should she refuse. She could still recall the horrible snap of bone followed by searing pain within her two left arms as his hand clamped tightly around her wrists.

_Don’t think about it. Finish what you must here to keep him from harming yourself and the others,_ she thought, shuddering as the memory was forced back once more into the recesses of her mind. All that remained of her former pride was her need to protect the others for as long as she could. _If I cannot protect them, then I never truly deserved the name of high priestess._

Her mouth closed over the tip of his shaft, slowly sucking on him.

xXx

“I've never ssseen you show sssuch an interessst in our guardsss, Natra,” Sitana hissed softly, watching Lyra’s focus remain on the two Yautja standing near the lounge entrance. The Natranian had taken her eyes off of them for only a few moments before facing them immediately afterward. “Are you alright?”

“Never better, Sitana,” Lyra said, glancing towards the Cerpantian before looking once more at Da’ar as the black Yautja stood next to Sitana’s guard. The shorter Yautja had stepped back a few paces, giving himself more room away from Da’ar, and Lyra wondered what kind of presence the black Yautja seemed to possess to make other Yautja move away and give him room.

Sitana raised a brow, looking once more at the dark Yautja before touching Lyra’s arm. “Perhapsss you shouldn’t have him under scrutiny, Natra. I cannot think mossst of them favor sssuch attention.”

Blinking, Lyra tore her gaze away from Da’ar and focused fully on Sitana. She nodded to the Cerpantian, though she couldn’t help watching him considering what he had told her in secret. _He was sent here to help us, but I’m not sure if I should let any of the others know._

Da’ar felt her gaze finally move away from him, and he glanced at Lyra out of the corners of his eyes. It would be difficult to speak freely in front of her as he had before now that there were others present, but she had to know not to behave in a peculiar manner with him. Granted, her gaze didn’t feel expectant more so one of curiosity and contemplation. Still even that sort of attention could be dangerous while on the Ty’rath-di, and Da’ar could not allow his mission to be compromised.

During the past few days while acting as Lyra’s guard, Da’ar had seen all of the females and assessed their current states. To see the large Vulfrani female, Rani, reduced to such a somber and silent condition drew an internal growl from the Yautja. He also remembered his analysis of the Ahrakan, who had been here the longest, as she tried to keep the others’ spirits high while trying to hide the pain in her crimson gaze.

_To be so strong after having been through so much... I wonder how her spirit truly fares after being here so long,_ Da'ar thought as he recalled seeing her being escorted to Bha’ruk’s quarters earlier in the day.

Bha’ruk’s voice crackled through his wrist guard, pulling his attention away from his thoughts. “Da’ar, come to the training arena immediately.”

“Elder, I am still guarding the Natranian, am I not?” Da’ar questioned in a low voice, glancing at Lyra before looking towards the lounge entrance.

“Of course, you idiot,” Bha’ruk growled through the speaker. “Right now you are to come to the arena. Leave Natra to be watched by another female’s guard and get down here now.”

“Yes, Elder,” Da’ar replied, growling at Sitana’s guard, Sa’luk, as he gave the black Yautja a wide berth. "Sa’luk, watch over Natra until I return."

Standing up straighter, Sa’luk nodded and focused on the two females sitting in the lounge. His posture said what no verbal affirmation of Da’ar’s order could, and the less time he had to spend with the black Yautja the better. Sa’luk would not underestimate the threat hidden in the ‘living Cetanu’s’ growl.

When Da’ar exited the room, he felt Lyra’s gaze once more and thought, _If the goddess is still with me, may she keep watch over Lyra._ Slight curiosity tugged at the back of his mind as he moved through the corridor to the lift, wondering just what Bha’ruk had in store for him. _I shall find out soon enough,_ he hissed to himself.

xXx

The arena doors slid open, and Da'ar strode steadily inside, though he gave pause for the stares directed at him. He saw two figures standing in the center of the arena. One of them he knew was Bha'ruk and he raised a brow as he saw the other was O'ni. He noticed the bandage on the other Yautja's thigh.

"Come join us, Da'ar," Bha'ruk's voice growled out to him, holding out an arm to the black Yautja. "There is much to... discuss."

Lowering his head in a modified bow, Da'ar made his way to the center of the ring. Warriors lined the outer barrier, their eyes boring into him from all sides, and he felt the tension around them as though they waited for the right moment to strike. He kept his eyes forward, thinking, _Something is in the air…_

Da'ar stopped in front of Bha'ruk and O'ni, the shorter warrior not meeting his eyes and instead choosing to focus on the elder. _Just two of us... with this audience._

Bha'ruk clapped a hand on the black Yautja's shoulder, clicking, "I'm pleased with you, Da'ar. You have demonstrated what _others_... could not." He looked pointedly at O'ni when he stressed 'others.'

"Elder, I did what I had to in order to save Natra," Da'ar stated, then motioned towards O'ni. "As I am certain that O'ni did all that he could as well."

Narrowing his eyes, Bha'ruk shook his head and moved his hand, pointing at O'ni. "I would doubt that this poor excuse for a warrior did all to protect her when he still stands here living. Death would be the only means for him to give _all_ for my Natra."

Da'ar glanced at O'ni who still chose to remain silent against Bha'ruk's judgments upon his status as a warrior. Looking back at the elder, Da'ar opened his mouth to speak when Bha'ruk cut him off.

"Da'ar, you will face off against him to claim your right to guard Natra. I have no doubts that you will dispose of him properly."

The black Yautja merely stared at Bha'ruk, his eyes remaining unreadable even as they shifted to look at O'ni. The warrior had already drawn his spear, and his eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Do not defend me when you should be defending yourself!" O'ni growled out, lunging and swinging the spear at Da'ar.

Anticipating the warrior's move, Da'ar grasped both of his twin blades, bringing one up to block the spear. He followed through with the hilt of the second blade, knocking the shorter warrior back and away from him. Da'ar took a wide stance, bringing his blades up in a defensive position, one in front of his chest and the other stretched out in front of his body. He knew O'ni obviously wanted no help or quarter given in this fight, but there was something that bothered the black Yautja.

O'ni roared and charged once more for Da'ar, taking out his anger on the black Yautja. His fury at the elder's questioning of not only his ability to protect Natra but his status as a warrior boiled within his blood. And for this... Exiled warrior to feel the need to defend him!

Jabbing his spear towards Da'ar's side, O'ni saw a thin line of green appear along the black skin, and he growled in triumph. First blood had been drawn, and O'ni heard the other warriors in the arena roaring in support of him. He answered their roars with one of his own as he lunged again, this time aiming for Da'ar's head.

The black Yautja shifted to his left side, kicking out with his right foot and shoving O'ni back. Da'ar didn't want to kill the warrior, but there would be no way around it. He had to be the one to protect Lyra.

Bha'ruk stood further back and watched the battle unfold, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Raising a brow at Da'ar's defensive technique, he curled his mandibles in annoyance. Why did Da'ar not simply kill the obviously weaker warrior? It would be so easy to do, especially since it saved Bha'ruk the task. After O'ni failed to stop Ji'ran from attacking Natra, the elder knew there was only one end result. However, it was a task Bha'ruk felt too menial to perform himself.

Then, he had an idea while resting with Vanika after her... ministrations. What better way to test Da'ar's dedication to protecting Natra than by having him execute the one who had failed to do so?

_If only he would just get on with it!_ Hissing to himself at Da'ar's slow progress, Bha'ruk finally growled, "Give no quarter!"

Hearing the elder's words, O'ni roared as he pounded towards Da'ar once again. A twinge of pain coursed through his bandaged thigh as he kicked out and swung his spear around. Another green line of blood now crossed the black Yautja's chest.

"Fight me fairly, Exiled!" O'ni growled out, frustrated that it seemed as though the dark Yautja was holding back.

"I am, you fool!" Da'ar snarled back as he pivoted on his back leg, thrusting his heel into O'ni's chest.

The shorter warrior grunted, wincing more at the pain of trying to catch his balance on his injured leg. O'ni went down to his knees as Da'ar slowly circled around him.

Looking out at the arena of Bha'ruk's bellowing warriors, Da'ar inched closer to O'ni. He held one of his blades out as though prepared to deliver the final strike while the other guarded around his middle. Da'ar growled softly, "Your leg is not fully healed yet, is it? How is this a fair fight then?"

"I don't need your pity," O'ni hissed out, glaring up at the black Yautja. "All I need to do is return to my duty of protecting Natra."

With a frustrated huff, Da'ar threw back his head and released a thunderous roar. He had to make this foolish warrior understand, but how?

As he looked down at O'ni, the dark Yautja blinked when the shorter warrior's eyes grew wide. It looked as though O'ni had seen a ghost or perhaps... Da'ar paused his thought as silence rolled through his mind. Even the roars and bellows surrounding them seemed to quiet though he could clearly see the warriors shaking their fists, their mouths opening and closing.

When he opened his mouth, the words came without his direction, sounding so distant and foreign to him. "If you truly wish to protect her, you must pass on that task to one who will help her."

"My... my lord..." O'ni whispered, his eyes wide as he stared at the immense shadow engulfing Da'ar's form. No, the Yautja before him was no longer the Exiled, and the warrior thought he saw red overtake the black Yautja's normally amber-colored eyes. "It is my time then...?"

"Depart from this world as an honored warrior should." The black Yautja pulled back the blade held out towards O'ni, lowering himself into a wide stance.

Nodding his head, O'ni rose to his feet, slowly swinging his spear out in front of him. If it was his day to die, he would die fighting as a warrior. The frustration and anger that had clouded his mind faded, and he couldn't hear the roars of his comrades... no.

_They could never understand,_ O'ni thought, swinging his spear up to block Da'ar's blade. _'They haven't seen Natra's pain... and it can't go on. It can't continue!_

Da'ar's blades locked with O'ni's spearhead, both Yautja meeting the other's steady stare. Seeing the red light fade from the dark Yautja's eyes, O'ni pushed against Da'ar, softly growling, "Protect her, you have the power to do so."

Da'ar nodded slowly as his eyes shifted over O'ni's shoulder. Bha'ruk stood within his line of vision, eyes narrowed fiercely as he drew a thumb across his throat, signaling Da'ar. "I will, Warrior."

Breaking free from the spear, Da'ar head-butted O'ni and struck the center of the warrior's chest with the hilt of his blade. O'ni staggered as the black Yautja brought his foot back before kicking out and connecting with O'ni's stomach, sending the warrior to his back on the floor.

O'ni groaned at the pain in his leg and struggled to sit up, but Da'ar's blade against his throat stopped him. Looking up at the kneeling dark Yautja, O'ni murmured, "Remember your word."

"I will," Da'ar said with a nod. Then, he glanced up as the arena quieted, silence settling over all the warriors present. He met Bha'ruk's stare and the elder gave him one firm nod. Da'ar looked back at O'ni then pulled his blade back, positioning the tip over the shorter warrior's chest. With one smooth motion, Da'ar drove the blade through the muscle, piercing O'ni's heart.

O'ni's body jerked once as his head fell back against the floor. His eyes closed in death, and Da'ar lowered his head briefly, whispering, "May the Black Hunter guide you on your next path."

Standing over the warrior, Da'ar looked around the arena, his eyes on all of the others present. They were silent as it should be with the death of a warrior, and the black Yautja lowered his blades in reverence.

Bha'ruk strode to the center of the arena, briefly glancing down at O'ni before looking at Da'ar. "Well done, Da'ar. Now, O'ni can redeem himself to the true Black Hunter."

Nodding, Da'ar bowed to the elder, asking, "Shall I return to my post, Elder?"

"So eager to go back to your duty," Bha'ruk clicked, raising a curious brow. "I like that about you, Da'ar. You know your priorities and what is most important. Go see the healer first about your wounds, and then return to your post."

"Yes, Elder," Da'ar answered, pausing only long enough to use a cleaning cloth to wipe O'ni's blood from his blade. Sheathing it and its twin, the black Yautja bowed deeply to Bha'ruk before striding to the arena's entrance.

xXx

"You had no real choice, right, Da'ar?" Ta'al said, dabbing at the long wound across the black Yautja's chest. "It was either kill O'ni or give Bha'ruk reason to doubt you."

"I know," Da'ar clicked, hissing softly at the sting from the disinfectant that the healer used.

Raising a brow, Ta'al retrieved another vial and dipped a long cloth-wrapped stick inside. He turned to Da'ar and lightly slid it over the thin wound that stretched along his chest. Then, he did the same for the other wounds caused by O'ni's fight. It was a special type of liquid bandaging that would seal thin wounds without use of cloth.

"You just seem very quiet about it is all."

Da'ar shook his head, not wanting to speak about what had happened in the arena just before he delivered the death blow. He should have known the signs when his mind became especially clear... almost as though his body was making room for the “presence” to inhabit him. It had happened many times before and would likely happen again many times over, though it was never by Da'ar's choice, only the Black Hunter's will.

Growling to himself, Da'ar knew that he could not summon the Black Hunter even though it was his body being used to take a Yautja at the end of their judged lifespan. Not all of his kills were made through the death god, but there were enough at too early an age to question it. Having a higher “kill” count than most youngbloods his age who were preparing to take their Blooding Test did nothing to persuade others from thinking he was indeed the living incarnation of the Black Hunter. That seemed to be what his blood parents believed... especially his disowning mother.

He’d encountered her just once on the clanship, and it was a time he regretted and loathed to recall. The Ancient who raised him had pointed her out to Da’ar when he was no more than five years, and he, being blissfully ignorant, approached this mother he’d never seen before. All she gave him for that was a sharp kick and snarled that he was a ‘filthy death-creature.’ The one Yautja who should have cared for him above all others rejected him both verbally and physically.

Shaking his head at the painful memory, Da’ar finally sighed out, “It’s fine, Ta’al, I’d just rather not talk about it.”

Nodding, Ta'al replaced the vial, then had another thought. "Have you thought about how you'll tell Natra?"

"The truth has always been best," Da'ar clicked, looking at the healer. "You don't think she'll take it well, correct?"

Ta'al sighed heavily, shaking his head. "He has been her guard for as long as she's been here. Whether she wants to admit it or not, Natra has... had formed some type of bond with O'ni."

"Not to mention that Natranians are creatures of life..." Da'ar said, looking down at his chest wound. "I will try to tell her as gently as possible."

Ta'al nodded to him, moving to unlock the entrance to the facility. "Good luck, in both telling Natra and also in your new post."

Gripping the healer's shoulder, Da'ar shook it gently in thanks as he walked outside, heading towards the lifts.

xXx

"And that isss why the sssky isss a beautiful golden color on my home," Sitana finished an old tale from her planet. She knew Lyra loved hearing stories like this one and thought it a suitable distraction from the absence of the Natranian's new guard.

"That was a great story, Sitana," Lyra said, smiling at the female. "I wish I could tell stories from Unatra as well as one of our storytellers, but it wasn't a gift granted to me. Now, my younger sister could definitely give you stories told from our grandmother almost word for word. I think she'll be able to fill that role within our family..."

Lyra's voice cracked as she thought about her family, especially Cora. She inhaled slowly, closing her eyes to stop the tears from coming.

"Natra?" Sitana touched Lyra's hand, concerned for her friend. There was no way she could reassure the Natranian without upsetting herself with false hope.

"I'm fine... I'm fine," Lyra said more to get herself to believe it rather than Sitana.

The lounge entrance opened, and both females looked up to see Da'ar stride inside. He stopped near them, clicking, "It would be best if you not strain yourself too much, Natra. Perhaps it is time to return to your quarters?"

Lyra tilted her head slightly, uncertain about the dark Yautja's tone, but she did feel the need to rest. Nodding, she stood up, then looked back at Sitana. "Thank you for the story, Sitana."

"Of courssse," the Cerpantian hissed, nodding her head.

Da'ar left the lounge first, standing to the side to allow Lyra to go ahead of him. Walking down the corridor with her, he clicked, "I am now your permanent guard, Natra, under Elder Bha'ruk's orders."

"I see..." she said as they made their way back to her rooms. "But... what about O'ni?"

"O'ni is gone. I was… ordered to execute him in combat."

Lyra stopped in the hallway, facing Da'ar fully and widening her eyes. "What? But why? He did as he was asked, there was no reason to..."

"The elder claimed that because O'ni did not fully protect you... he was to forfeit his life," Da'ar growled lowly, looking to the side as he recalled the warrior lying prone on the arena floor.

"And whatever that monster orders it must be done, right?" Lyra grit her teeth, clenching her fists as she thought about O'ni. He had been her constant companion here, and though she knew he acted under orders, he did treat her respectfully.

Hot tears burned her eyes as Lyra punched the wall next to them, wincing a little at the pain in her knuckles. "It's not fair."

"No... it's not," Da'ar growled softly, raising a brow at her angry display. He noticed her wince and grip her fist, and he slowly held out his hand so he could inspect hers for injury after striking the wall.

When she looked up at him, Da'ar saw the storms roiling within her stare. It surprised him again to see such fury from a Natranian female, and he almost moved his hand away. Then, Lyra laid her throbbing hand in his, and he looked over the graying area of her knuckles, knowing that she’d likely bruised them.

"I hope that Paya... or whoever your god or goddess is, will watch over him," she murmured, sighing heavily and wiping at her eyes.

Da'ar raised his head at her words, looking at her and nodding his agreement before returning his attention to her hand. "It looks like just some slight bruising, Natra. Perhaps we should get..."

Bha'ruk's voice growling through his gauntlet interrupted him. "Da'ar, bring Natra to my chambers now."


	8. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are no longer yourself. You belong to him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Collection  
> Author: MuseofScrolls  
> Chapter: Eight  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Graphic Violence/Gore, Sexual Situations, Non-consensual Sex/Implied Rape, Attempted Rape, Death  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Female Non-Human/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with the Predator or AVP franchise and earn no monetary funds for composing this work of fiction. However, all original characters found herein are my own and therefore should not be used in any other work of fiction without my express written permission.

# Chapter 8: Mine

Da'ar paused, looking at Lyra as her eyes met his before he clicked, "Elder, I don't believe now would be the most opportune time. Natra was not feeling well when I returned and needs rest."

Attempting to rein in her rising anger and fear, Lyra inhaled a slow breath as they waited for Bha'ruk's response. Would he believe Da'ar's words about her current state?

“You are trying my patience, Da’ar,” Bha’ruk growled lowly. “She can rest in my chambers if she is feeling ill. Bring her now.”

Exhaling sharply, Lyra looked up from the gauntlet to Da’ar’s eyes set in a hard stare as he hesitated. While his face was unreadable, she saw what appeared to be dueling emotions within his amber eyes, and Lyra wondered what his answer would be.

Da’ar took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. After taking on this mission and sending Ta’al to join Bha’ruk’s ship, Da’ar had remained in constant contact with the healer. With each new female added to the elder’s ‘collection,’ the black Yautja had sent reports to the High Council, giving as much detail as Ta’al’s reports allowed. Each quick response from the Council had said to wait until he joined Bha’ruk’s ship and his orders would be delivered. Da’ar’s last report had been sent just before he joined the Ty’rath-di, making sure to inform the Council about the latest captured female, Lyra. No response had been received since his coming to the ship much to his agitation.

Now, it was too late for her as Da’ar met her gaze, breathing a heavy and resolute sigh before responding, “Yes, Elder. We will be there shortly.”

Lyra blinked and then widened her eyes, not bothering to hide her shock. She barely watched him press the keys to end the connection. Then, her eyes narrowed into a glare.

“I refuse to go to that… monster,” she stated, taking a step away from him and towards her room, the safest place on this mobile prison. “You will have to drag me there.”

“Natra.” Da’ar started to say more, but in truth, the black Yautja was at a loss for what he could say to her. How could he possibly justify what amounted to delivering her to her captor when they both knew what fate awaited her?

Lowering his voice, he clicked, “I cannot give him reason to question my loyalties. Try and think of the other females, what they have undergone. I know it is an immense task… one that weighs on my shoulders as well.”

“And yet you are not the one having to deal with a forced mating…” Lyra knew that she wasn’t being fair to Vanika and the other females, but her fear was justified after hearing what they went through and seeing the results. “I… I mourn for the others… for what they have lost, but why must I be forced to lose that, too?”

The black Yautja stared at her, this female who didn’t deserve a fate like forced mating but was made to deal with what happened. Spending time with her over the past few days, watching her interact with the other females and overhearing their conversations made him see just how strong-willed she was. It also explained why she didn’t behave as expected of the females of her race. It was a trait Da’ar couldn’t help admiring about the female even when his attention needed to be on the task at hand. His need to protect her warred with his duty to help all of the females, and he knew the only end result though he was loath to admit it.

“Lyra,” he growled in a soft tone, choosing his words carefully. “The needs of many… outweigh the needs of one. Is that not a code taught on Unatra?”

Blinking at him, Lyra couldn’t believe Da’ar was almost quoting one of the Rites of Zakor, taught to young Natranians and reaffirmed during the Oath of the Zakiryn. “How… how can you… use my people’s teachings against me this way, Da’ar?”

“Because it is something I have had to live by for many years... as the only reason given to me.” Da’ar sighed and closed his eyes, forcing thoughts of long ago out of his mind. _The only excuse given…_

The female rubbed a hand over her face as she shut her eyes tight, seeing the images of Cora and her parents inside her mind. Alongside them appeared the five others here… Vanika, Sitana, Nemona, and poor silent Rani and Kudra. _If it was Cora… or even Mother in their places… no. Even here in this prison, there is family… and they are it. Forgive me, Vanika, Sitana… everyone, for my selfishness._

“Fine,” she murmured, swallowing a thick lump in her throat and blinking back tears. “I will go.”

Opening his eyes to look at her, Da’ar once more saw strength within her gaze, and he reached out to gently grasp her shoulder, shaking it to offer her courage. _Lyra… you are a remarkable female._ He kept his thoughts to himself and pulled back his hand, watching her shoulders straighten as she braced herself for the trek to Bha’ruk’s chambers. The black Yautja had to admire the resolute manner with which the Natranian carried herself, but he wondered how long it would be maintained.

As they strode down the corridor, Lyra tried to think of a means to preserve her innocence while within Bha’ruk’s presence. Just thinking about being trapped inside his chambers was enough to send a shudder coursing through her body, and a soft cry left her throat as she clenched her fists.

Da’ar glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noticing her shudder. Inhaling a long breath, he clicked, “There is a possibility that he only wishes you to be in his presence, Natra.”

“How sure are you of that?” she asked, turning to him.

Despite trying to comfort her with his words, Da’ar couldn’t even admit to himself that Bha’ruk might leave her alone. After the incident with Ji’ran, there was no doubt that the elder wished to claim the last female as his own. Even if she feigned illness.

Releasing a long sigh, Lyra knew his silence spoke volumes as she whispered, “I thought as much.”

xXx

When Vanika entered the lounge, she noticed both Sitana and Nemona speaking in soft tones in the center of the pile of cushions. The females looked up after the doors slid shut behind the Ahrakin and her guard, and as she approached them, a sense of dread coiled through her upon seeing their tense and pale faces.

“Vanika,” Sitana hissed softly as she stared at the female before shutting her eyes tight.

Sitting down next to her, Vanika touched the Cerpantian’s hand, asking, “What is it? What has happened to upset both of you?”

Nemona couldn’t meet the Ahrakin’s eyes and instead bowed her head, keeping her stare on her hands in her lap. “I saw… Natra and her guard…” Biting her lip, the Nimonae felt her chest tighten as memories flashed in her mind of Bha’ruk’s heavy body atop her struggling form.

Inhaling a long breath, Sitana finally looked up at Vanika and continued. “Nemona sssaw them in the corridor… heading to Bha’ruk’sss quartersss.” She shook her head and hugged around her middle as if trying to close in on herself. It had happened to others, and was an inevitability, but she could still feel in her flesh the first time it had happened to her, like a wound torn open again and again that would not heal.

Vanika’s eyes widened as she recalled her own words spoken to the Natranian on her first day on the ship. _‘You are the one female he has searched for incessantly.’_ Now, she regretted those words, the thoughts that had accompanied them, and that it was only a matter of time before Natra was claimed as well. And yet… despite knowing what had happened with every living female captured, for whatever reason, the Ahrakin had hoped that perhaps Natra would escape the fate that they all had suffered.

Natranians were seen as such pure beings among other space-faring races who encountered them in travel, and it was often believed no harm could befall them. It was shocking enough that one would be kidnapped as Natra had been let alone… to be violated in this manner. Vanika shook her head.

While she now saw the foolishness in thinking Natra might not be violated, it didn’t stop her eyes from stinging with unshed tears as she covered her face with her upper hands. Quiet sobs were muffled by her hands as her lower arms gripped one of the cushions almost to the point of ripping the cloth.

Watching her friend weep was nothing new for Sitana, and she had also shed tears both for her loss and the loss of the others who followed her. As the second living captured female, the Cerpantian had witnessed Vanika’s sorrow for each one of them… and even for those that Ta’al had been made to provide a merciful death.

_Onnakua… she’d fought against Bha’ruk to the very end,_ Sitana thought as she recalled the petite, yet fierce striped Torgai, a feline warrior species who had been captured shortly after the Cerpantian. She lasted the least amount of time out of all those kidnapped. Not even a week after her capture, the healer had tried to save her after losing so much blood from her only bout with Bha’ruk, yet it was all in vain as Ta’al finally had to give up and give her peace.

Tears streamed down Sitana’s scaled cheeks as the memory of her first time with Bha’ruk resurfaced, and she grabbed a cushion, hugging it fiercely to her body. While it hadn’t been as violent, the violation still haunted her.

Closing her eyes, Ta’al’s face came to her mind and the need to see him nearly pushed the Cerpantian to her feet. But to seek comfort from him now would likely ask too much of him and also draw unwanted attention. The healer had been within Sitana’s thoughts for over a year of her capture here, a light within the ship of oblivious followers. Ta’al _saw_ their pain, and even when he tried to conceal the fury in his gaze as he treated her injuries, she had noticed.

A clenched fist, a bitten back growl, or a slight furrowing of his tall brow, all of these she knew as proof that Ta’al was different. It was becoming more difficult for Sitana not to reveal how fond she was of the healer as her tail had almost given her away on the most recent visit. _Ta’al… the truth wouldn’t do any good._ Not as long as she remained within Bha’ruk’s grasp.

Finally composing herself, Vanika swallowed a thick lump in her throat, narrowing her eyes at the cushion in her hands. “His lust will never be satisfied…”

Blinking out of her thoughts, the Cerpantian glanced up at the Ahrakin’s comment about Bha’ruk. “No…” Sitana whispered in agreement, shaking her head.

“I think enough time has passed,” Vanika murmured to herself, reaching up a hand to touch her lips. Opening her mouth, she prodded a finger against the small fang growing just above her needle-like eye tooth, finding it was as long as her teeth now. The previous pair had been much longer with the tips jutting out from her upper lip, but Bha’ruk had taken that weapon from her as soon as he brought her to the ship. What he failed to realize is that they did grow back, and her venom did replenish as her fangs grew.

Sitana tilted her head, slowly setting the cushion down. “What do you mean, Vanika?”

Glancing towards the cluster of three guards, the Ahrakin made sure to put her back to them before whispering, “Eight years is a long time, yet not so long to one of my people. I will say that one weapon he ripped from me has now returned in that time, though I’m not sure if it will do the task. For now, I pray it will be enough, but if not… it will fall to you to watch over the others.” Vanika placed a gentle hand along the Cerpantian’s shoulder.

“Vanika… you can’t mean…” Sitana’s eyes widened as she realized what the other female was saying.

“It cannot go on, Sitana… it just can’t.” Vanika’s eyes stung once more as she thought of all the females, both living and dead, who had been forced into this life. _It must end now._

~~~

The minutes seemed to stretch into hours until Da’ar had no idea how much time had passed since he’d brought Lyra to Bha’ruk’s quarters. His mind had been whirling with so many thoughts and speculations, yet it was frustration at the Council’s hesitance that pushed to the front. Gripping his spear, he fought the urge to pace outside the door, praying to Paya that the tyrant wouldn’t kill her in his lust.

Shutting his eyes tight, Da’ar released a low rumbling growl before clenching his mandibles over his mouth. _No good will come of drawing attention outside when there would be nothing to warrant my agitation in his eyes,_ he thought to himself, inhaling deep breaths to try and calm his racing mind.

He almost jumped when the door slid open beside him, and the black Yautja turned in time to see Lyra limp outside and past him before slumping bent over on the floor. His eyes widened at the state of her clothes, ripped and revealing her white skin bearing claw marks and gashes through the long tears. Her disheveled silver hair hung about her shoulders, stray locks dangling in front of her face. She was shaking as though cold, but he knew that wasn’t the cause of the Natranian’s quivering state.

Slowly, Da’ar approached her as the door slid shut, and he knelt down next to her shuddering form, setting his spear down. He cleared his throat, clicking, “Natra?”

When she didn’t respond, the black Yautja reached out a hesitant hand to lightly touch her shoulder and draw her attention. Then, he jerked back as she recoiled from him, turning wide, unseeing eyes on him and shouting, “Don’t touch me!”

At that moment, Da’ar saw the raw pain and anguish within Lyra’s once strong gaze before she broke down into sobs, and it made his blood boil. An innocent had suffered and he had allowed that suffering to happen. He’d delivered her to the one who did this, and because he had not been given his orders, he could do nothing.

_Damn the Council and damn_ you _, High Elder! What good is the power of judgment if it can’t save her?_ he thought viciously, clenching his fists almost enough to draw blood from his palms. _If it can’t save any of them…_

A cry drew him out of his thoughts, and Da’ar saw Lyra grimace as she gripped her left thigh, the leg she’d favored while limping. He doubted she’d be able to walk to the medical level, but her earlier reaction to him touching her made him hesitant. Slowly, he held out his hand to her, softly clicking, “Lyra… please let me help. You need to see the healer.”

Hearing her name seemed to break through the Natranian’s shock as she blinked and then focused her eyes on the black Yautja finally seeing him. “D… Da’ar?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, tears still wetting her cheeks as she shifted and winced again at the sharp pain in her left leg.

“You need to see the healer,” he repeated, keeping his voice soft and calm despite the anger and guilt that fought to claim him. “Let me take you there.”

Lyra looked at his offered hand, black but tipped with sharp claws very similar to those that had torn through her clothes, her only barrier. And then scraped across her skin… gripping to hold her still… all while the monster… Shuddering and turning away, she shook her head. “I… I think I can make it… on my own.”

Raising both brows, Da’ar grit his teeth to bite back the immediate response that she shouldn’t try to walk alone, though he felt he had no right to say anything. She had been through a terrible act forced upon her, so why should she want help from the one who delivered her to that act? Inhaling a slow breath, he clicked, “If you want to try, do so.”

The Natranian nodded to him and then braced her hands against the floor, pushing herself to try and stand up. Her arms shook and she had to bite back another cry as her leg throbbed with pain. She wasn’t sure what was injured, either her thigh or her hip, but all she felt was a sharp pain in her left leg while trying to stand. Finally, Lyra was more or less on her hooves, and she placed a hand against the wall to steady her body.

As he watched her struggle to rise, the black Yautja noticed smears of silver on the floor, no doubt blood drawn from her violation. Shaking with suppressed anger, Da’ar reached down to pick up his spear and collapsed it before placing it in the sheath on his back. He prepared himself for the inevitable even as she forced herself to her own feet, and it brought him a little relief to see remnants of her willpower.

With slow steps, they headed towards the lifts as Lyra used the wall to maintain her balance while still limping even though she had to bite back painful cries. Tears of agony still streaked down her face with even the slightest weight put on her left leg, but she continued down the corridor. She could still feel the slickness of her blood between her thighs where he’d forced his way inside her. The pain actually aided in giving her something else to focus on rather than how it had been caused when the monster stole yet more from her. _Damn him…_ she thought, clenching her teeth.

She could hear Da’ar moving a few steps behind her, and a part of her was grateful for the space he maintained between them. The fact that he respected her demand not to be touched offered some relief though another small part also wished he would carry her in order to avoid this agonizing walk.

Finally, they reached the lift, and once Lyra had slumped inside before him, Da’ar pressed in the key code for the medical level. He tried to avert his gaze without success as he found himself watching her, his brow furrowed and his body tense. Would she be able to make it down the long corridor to the medical facility?

Closing her eyes, the Natranian pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the lift’s wall, inhaling long, slow breaths. She tried to prepare herself for the next long walk to Ta’al’s facility once they reached the level, but the pain in her leg was making that trek seem endless. _Lord Zakor… why have you brought me to this fate?_ she thought as more tears came to her eyes.

As the lift slowed to a stop, the black Yautja waited for Lyra to rise, though it was hard to watch her struggle to find a handhold on the smooth lift wall. He shut his eyes briefly, trying to think of a way to help her while still keeping to her demand not to touch her. Blinking his eyes open, Da’ar had an idea and reached over his shoulder to remove his spear from its case, extending it to full length.

Lyra looked up when she heard the clink of the spear’s base against the floor, crinkling her brow as Da’ar held the weapon out to her. Tilting her head, she saw him nod towards his spear, and she reached out to grasp it, slowly pulling herself to her feet. Once she was standing, he released his hold on the weapon, allowing her to lean on it as a brace.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him before limping off the lift and moving down the corridor with the black Yautja slowly following behind.

~~~

_Mine. At last, she is mine._

Bha’ruk chirred to himself as he lay on his immense bed surrounded by Natra’s scent even after she’d left. Inhaling a long breath, the elder released it in a heavy purr as he recalled her lithe body under his while he thrust inside her.

She had fought him as he figured she would, managing to strike his legs three times with her hard hooves before he’d pinned her completely to the bed. Without bothering to remove her dress, he’d simply clawed through the cloth, leaving his mark upon her bright skin. His thrusts had been slow at first given how tight she was, but as memories of Ji’ran trying to take her came to his mind, Bha’ruk’s thrusts turned fervent and violent as his hips slammed against hers.

The elder thought she’d screamed during one of those heavy and hard thrusts, believing he’d brought her to climax before reaching his own with a thunderous roar that drowned out her cries. _My Natra…_ Bha’ruk moaned at the thought, closing his eyes and turning to bury his face into the pillow she’d been lying against.

Through the haze of his fulfilled lust, Bha’ruk wondered if he shouldn’t have let her leave so quickly after finishing when he could be lounging with her, his hand stroking over her body. With a pleased sigh, he settled into the pillow, slowly drifting off while thinking, _No matter. There will be other times now that she is mine._

~~~

The medical facility was quiet despite the three occupants inside, but Ta’al knew that couldn’t be helped given the circumstances. When he saw Lyra leaning against what appeared to be Da’ar’s spear and the black Yautja hovering just a few feet behind her, he knew what Bha’ruk had done.

Biting back the curse he wanted to roar, the healer had gently encouraged the injured Natranian to the examining table, offering only the barest of assistance to help her up in order to lie down. Ta’al could see by the puffiness of her face that she’d been weeping, and to prevent further humiliation and pain while he administered aid, he gave her a sedative to allow Lyra to rest.

Already, Ta’al saw Bha’ruk’s handiwork in the claw marks along her revealed skin, but he was more concerned about her leg since she’d been favoring it. And there was also vaginal damage that was evident by the silver blood smeared between her thighs. He glanced at Da’ar as the black Yautja remained standing along the wall farthest from the examining table. Shaking his head in uncertainty at what he could say to his ally, Ta’al returned his attention to Lyra’s injured leg.

Da’ar barely watched as Ta’al examined and moved around the table where Lyra lay under sedation. He’d seen enough of her pain on their slow trek to the medical facility, and the black Yautja could watch no more. The strength of will that the Natranian possessed should have been admirable, but considering what had caused her injuries, Da’ar felt only anger and guilt.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, the black Yautja desired to hit something, anything to relieve the taunts of his mind. _She has suffered, and you can do nothing for it. You delivered her to that fate, and she will never trust you again. What can a death-creature like you do but cause others pain? It’s your fault!_ Clamping his mandibles tight, Da’ar stifled the growl emitting from his throat as he pivoted to one side and started pacing around the medical facility.

Ta’al looked up, surprised to see Da’ar so restless and agitated, and he couldn’t recall a time when he’d seen his ally show such… frustration. Blinking and glancing away, the healer remembered how the rejection of his mother had brought a change within the black Yautja that made him distance himself, making certain to show as little emotion as he could with other Yautja. And that didn’t help dissuade them from believing Da’ar was the living embodiment of the Black Hunter.

_So what could cause such a reversal in his behavior now? Is it because of Lyra?_ Ta’al frowned as his thoughts turned to the other females, recalling what he felt when they’d come to him in conditions similar to Lyra.

“Da’ar?”

The black Yautja stopped his pacing, slowly turning, and glanced at the healer. “What?”

“What’s going through your mind now?” Ta’al asked, raising a brow as he carefully covered Lyra with a woven blanket to keep her warm. After doing so, he faced Da’ar to give him full attention.

Closing his eyes, Da’ar shook his head, clicking, “Too much.” He pressed his hands against the wall, inhaling a long breath.

“Try me,” the healer chirred, trying to encourage him. “Da’ar… you’ve trusted me before, especially since you came to me with this mission.”

As Da’ar released a long sigh, he knew the truth of Ta’al’s words given they’d grown up together as pups. “I’ve failed her.”

“L… Natra?” Ta’al caught himself almost saying her real name. “What happened to her isn’t your fault.”

“No?” The black Yautja jerked his head to look over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes in an angry glare. “I delivered her to Bha’ruk. I could have given him some excuse to spare her… this pain. I should have stopped him, but all I did was--”

“Your duty,” the healer finished for Da’ar. “You were doing what you were ordered to do by the High Council. And if you’d killed him now, what would stop others on the ship from killing us in retribution? We couldn’t possibly protect the females from being violated by three or more sex-starved Yautja.”

Ta’al’s words stopped Da’ar’s thoughts as the black Yautja realized he’d given voice to the taunts and accusations without thinking through the consequences. “I… I don’t know why I thought…” He shook his head, unsure how to explain his words.

“Why has this affected you so much?” Tilting his head, Ta’al glanced back at Lyra still resting on the examining table.

Following the healer’s gaze, Da’ar finally looked at Lyra, feeling the guilt crawl through him again. “She looked at me… with such trust when she woke in the arbor. She spoke with me almost as if I was… a friend.” He averted his gaze, rubbing a hand over his brow.

“And you feel like you’ve failed to live up to her trust?”

“Failed to live up to it, broken it. Either way… she won’t trust me again.” Da’ar huffed out a breath as he lowered his hand.

Ta’al shook his head, approaching and placing a hand on Da’ar’s shoulder. “I doubt that. Lyra isn’t foolish, and she knows who has… harmed her and who has helped her.” He’d taken a chance in using her real name, but he felt that Da’ar likely knew it already.

“I didn’t help her this time,” Da’ar reminded the healer.

“Maybe not, but you need to focus if you are to help her and the others. And you can’t do that in this state.” Seeing Da’ar this emotional was hard for Ta’al to even process since the black Yautja had always tried to remain so detached and uncaring. Still, the healer also felt a slight sense of relief that his ally could show such strong feelings since it meant that Da’ar might move beyond what other Yautja saw in him.

Nodding his agreement, Da’ar knew he couldn’t let this guilt rule him, but the anger could be focused and help him perform his duty. He just had to wait to receive word from the High Council, a task he seemed to practice consistently.

The black Yautja approached where Lyra rested, placing his hand against the side of the table and staring at her. _I will make him pay for what he’s done. This I swear to you and the others, Lyra._


End file.
